


He's A Little Late Today

by villalunae



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aforementioned friendship troubles, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Loss of Parent(s), Male-Female Friendship, Mommy Issues, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Secrets, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, We Got Troubles In Friendship Town, au where there are waffle houses in washington state apparantly, i DEMAND waffle house equality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villalunae/pseuds/villalunae
Summary: He’s a little late today.She doesn’t quite know why.





	1. Chapter 1

  Karkat Vantas and Nepeta Leijon; Two souls, two hopelessly bound souls, two innately, _imperfectly_ bound souls. Bound by love, by life, by mark. Bound forever, and bound for the insensitive act of love. They lived by it, learned by it; Everybody did. Everybody knew. _Everybody_ was bound.

 Of course, they didn’t know who. Nobody knows who. Nobody could predict it, or change it; Neither could anyone estimate how, or when, or where, or _why_. There was no science -- Marks were not passed down by dominant gene, nor carried by illness. It happened, and some learned to accept it, and others did not. Some lived and loved viciously with them, and some lived and loved reservedly with them. But nobody lived and loved _without_ them.

 The constant presence of a mark was like pressure to some; others, a relief. You were never guaranteed love until you touched the other bound, and even then it could fade and wash away with the cold hand of death. There were many stories of those who had loved long and hard, and their mark faded until all that was left was skin, empty and barren. There were those who had maybe touched for a moment, didn’t notice until they looked, and when they looked a second time, the now complete mark had already started to fade.

 Newspapers had a section dedicated to these stories. People claiming their mark had been filled, their outline had been colored in, their colour edged with black; Hoping, _dreaming_ to find the person who had filled it, who had drawn it, who had added their spark to their bound. Some declared the mark had faded, and were desperate to know who’s name in the obituaries they belonged to. Families whose child died young searched for the answer to an unfinished riddle, and families whose child’s mark disappeared longed to know what had befallen the future beloved.

 But it was not all terrible.

 Marks lasted. They continued. They were a constant in the sea of distraught and disdain that befell adults and children alike. They reassured the bearer _you have a home here, you are not misplaced. Someone is with you, always, forever a memory and perpetually yours. There is a light inside of you, beckoning the bound towards your own. You are the beacon; you are the guiding stars; you are the winds and the tides; you are the compass, the map, the ever present and never ending. You are the incomplete. Let that never stop you._

 There were those who had found their bound. Loved endlessly and decadently ever since.

 Those who found them early, found them early. Small children playing together in a schoolyard, brushing hands and finding they were connected at the heart. Teenagers holding hands for the first time, knowing they would hold each other for long after that. College students, strained by work and beckoned by sleep, fingers brushing as they reach for the same pen; They would keep that pen, as a memento, as the moment that they discovered what had been decided ever since time began.

 Those who found them late, found them late. Aging adults, hopping from bar to bar, buying a drink for one and learning they’d be buying drinks for that one for what was left of their life. The elderly at the sanctuaries and homes, who might bump into another and become bound by the hip, hoping to gain what should have been found years ago. And there were those who, on their deathbed, brushed hands with an old friend they hadn’t seen since preschool, and wondered why they had never touched before this.

 Of course, fate had ideas and fate twisted those ideas. Fate was loving, fate was loathing; Fate could be warm, fate could be cold. Fate was respectable; Fate was disreputable.

 For her mother, fate was sultry, then deathly-ill.

 For her sister, fate is kind. Fate is odd, but kind.

 But for _her_?

 Fate was _aloof_. Detached. Stiff and _withdrawn_. Reserved, unforthcoming, remote and _distant._ Never caring, always away. Simply too caught up in it’s own world to care about her _place_ in it.

 So Nepeta Leijon was _unsympathetic_ towards it.

 

 Nepeta Dianna Leijon; Her mother’s maiden name, dropped in hers. She liked it well enough. Her mother liked unique names, she used to joke that she fell in love with her father’s surname before she fell in love with him. It was a running joke, one that was used at his funeral when Nepeta was only nine; She is now twenty-two. She was never quite in balance then, and she never quite got that balance back. Her life since is hectic, her mother doubling her jobs, her sister taking part-time. Nepeta did what little she could, but at that age, the little she could do was even less. Her mother didn’t even want her working, and neither did her sister. They both struggled to put her through college, and when asked, her sister would say that she never really wanted it anyway.

 Nepeta never really wanted it, either.

 But it happened.

 And only a few months left awaited her here.

 She was in class, currently. Listening to a lecture nearing what was now midnight. She didn’t even  _want_ to be in the late night classes anyway, but she was here! _Listening_!

 Alright, maybe she _wasn’t_ listening. Maybe she was nearly falling asleep in her chair. Maybe she was slowly killing her chances of success in college. She really, honestly, could not care less right now. She really, honestly, just wanted some _sleep_.

 “Now, as you read in your textbooks this last week, the anatomy of . . . “

 Of something. Nepeta didn’t do the reading. Of _course_ she didn’t do the reading. It’s the anatomy of a _flower_ , she doesn’t even remember which _one_ , she’s just here to do the homework and get the credit! She’ll probably fail a big quiz in the future, but hey! That’s the _future_. That’s not right _now_.

 She’ll die inside a month before the finals, but not _now_.

 She put her head in her arms, leaning forward on the chair as the clock ticked onwards. Half the students in this class looked just as bored as she did, which wasn’t surprising. It was _midnight_ , everybody here had better things to do at _midnight_. For _her_ , that was sleeping. For the guy _next_ to her, that was apparently checking his phone. Because that’s what he was doing. Right now. In class.

 . . . . The sign marked, “No Cell-Phones In Class,” _clearly_ didn’t apply to him.

 It didn’t seem like the professor knew, or _cared_ , really. He was talking about the equivalent of flower dicks, she didn’t think he had the time for caring about cell-phones. Nepeta wondered if he did any classes other than flower anatomy, or if he just did this one. Maybe he just really liked flower genitalia. Maybe he wanted to have sex with some bells of Ireland, but couldn’t figure a safe way to do it without removing all the little pointy bits in their blooms. It’d be hard enough for _her_ to go at a stalk like that, she couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be for her aging teacher in his sixties.

 She yawned and her eyes strayed to the left.

 The guy next to her, on his phone, was scrolling through what appeared to be some chat app she didn’t recognize. He was probably going through group messages or something. Reading. Doing more interesting things than her. She could totally bring out her phone, but then that’d be _two_ people on their phones. More noticeable. It’d look like they were texting each other. It was a small class anyway, there’s no way the professor wouldn’t see them. Then he might confiscate _both_ their phones, and _she’d_ be the one at fault for bringing attention to them. She wasn’t too excited about that prospect.

 So she kept her phone safely in her pocket, and her arms on her desk, and her head on the desk too, leaned over and bored to _death_. She scratched her left arm, pulling up her sleeve and revealing a bit of her soulmark. She yawned, poked at it a little.

 Stationary and unassuming as ever.

 Nepeta’s eyes teared up a little as she finished yawning, and she wiped her eyes, smearing her makeup too. The guy next to her glanced over, staring at her oddly, and she shook her head, trying to communicate that she wasn’t crying. She simulated a yawn, and the guy nodded in understanding before looking back down at his phone. She leaned her head to the side, staring not at the guy, but in his general direction. She was really looking at the door, with the clock right above it.

  _12:03 a.m._

 She practically had another thirty minutes of this.

 Oh _boy_.

 She closed her eyes, trying to rest so she’d regain some semblance of energy before she had to walk back to her dorms across campus. She thought of her bed, sitting there with the christmas lights hanging above it. She had brought her full bed from home, and it’s just as comfortable when she was five as it is now. She also took her favorite stuffed animal, Pounce de Leon. She never leaves home without her, and she didn’t plan on starting with college.

 Pounce de Leon was so snuggly, too! She could just imagine the warmth she would give, and the comfort, and snuggled up under all those blankets. . . . It sounded like a _dream_. It sounded really good, _great_ , even. And, if she wanted, she could sleep in tomorrow! This was Friday. She was free all weekend. She could -- she could just sleep all day tomorrow. That sounded . . .

 That sounded so _good_.

 That sounded so, so _good_.

 So good, in fact, she fell asleep thinking of that.

 “Hey."

 Nepeta mumbled something, sniffing and cuddling up a little closer.

 “Hey. You.”

 Something poked her side and she shook her head a little, wanting to get that warmth she had lost back.

 “Hello! Earth to -- I don’t fucking -- _Look_! Wake up! You’re sitting right next to me, right there.”

 Nepeta blinked a few times, looking to her side and seeing the guy next to her staring.

 “Yeah, you. I’m talking to you, class is over. It’s -- It’s been over, for like five fucking minutes.”

 Nepeta moved her head upwards a little and noticed there was nobody sitting in front of her. Nepeta lifted her head, looking up and around slowly, seeing the room empty. She yawned, stretching her arms.

 “I -- I was --”

 “Sleeping, yeah, I saw that, so did the people next to you.” The guy packed his phone in his pocket, his backpack already packed. Nepeta hadn’t even _bothered_ to bring out her book. “I don’t know how the professor didn’t see you, he's blind as a fucking  _bat_ , I swear . . . “

 Nepeta shook her head, watching as the guy next to her stood up, his backpack swinging up on his shoulder. He stood and watched her expectantly, as if waiting for her to move too.

 “Well? Let’s go, get your books and let’s get a fucking move on.”

 Nepeta looked up at him, squinting.

 “What?”

 The guy rolled his eyes.

 “It’s one in the _fucking_ morning. The others didn’t want to leave you all alone here, so I volunteered my dumbass to --”

 “Wait, it’s one?” Nepeta stood up, grabbing her messenger bag and putting it over her shoulder. The guy nodded.

 “Yeah, class ran late. I should’ve followed your example, all that shit was already in the fucking reading,” He sighed. “But who gives a fuck, lost time, _whatever_ , do you want to walk back to your dorm all alone or not?”

 Nepeta sighed and stretched again. “I mean, no, but -- Yeah, yeah, let’s just go. Guess I don’t want to fall asleep on my way there.”

 “Don’t worry, I’ll beat you to it,” He noted, moving to the door and pulling it open, letting her walk through first. Nepeta did so, gladly, and entered the darkened halls of the Leatherbottle Building. The lights all down the hall were dim and flickering, just like one of those horror movies, of which, Leatherbottle would be an appropriate name for the serial killer. Nepeta was still working out the kinks, but Leatherbottle could be a guy who’s got leather for skin and is a raging alcoholic that uses his empty bottles to kill people. She figured Leatherbottle would reside at a college campus, just like this one, and appear at the end of dimly lit halls, drunkenly stalking two students who were dumb enough to take a Botany class at midnight. She didn’t have much of a plot other than what she was thinking of as she and the -- still hadn’t asked for his name -- other guy walked down the halls towards the exit of the campus, but it was something to think about.

 “So -- What is your name, anyway?” Nepeta asked him, breezing past just so she could walk backwards and look at him. “I never got it, believe it or not!”

 The guy, who towered over her, looked down  _at_ her, a quizzical look on his face. “It’s Karkat. Spelled with only K’s, no C’s.” Nepeta opened her mouth to say something, but the guy -- Karkat, let’s start using his name -- talked over her, telling her, “And I know what you’re about to say, and _no_ , I did not mean it was _only_ spelled with fucking K’s. Just the first and fourth letter.”

 Nepeta pouted, seeing as the taller, irritated student beside her had read her mind. “You read my mind!” She said, then added, “And that’s a weird name, Karkat!”

 “Wow, haven’t heard _that_ before,” Karkat noted, in a sarcastic tone that indicated this might not be the first time he’s ever received the comment. “And you have no right to say that, _Nepeta Leijon._ ”

 “You know my name?” She asked him, and Karkat pushed open the door marked clearly with a glowy red exit sign. Karkat nodded, and Nepeta left through the door he had opened for her.

 “Yeah, I only know it because you always fall asleep in Botany, and somebody will always say, ‘ _Oh, look, Nepeta’s fallen asleep again_ ,’ when class ends.” Karkat exited behind her, letting the door fall shut behind him. “So, yeah, I know your name.”

 “Well, it’s good to know I have a reputation!” Nepeta smiled up at him, and she could tell he was tired by the rolling eyes she got in return.

 “It’s not a very good one.”

 “But it’s a reputation nonetheless! That has to count for something!”

 “No, it really doesn’t.”

 

 Karkat had asked her which dorms she was at, and Nepeta pointed out that she was roomed in the Plathe building, which was known for it’s squeaky doors and it’s thick, soundproof walls. Nepeta knew this not only because of the other students, but because the girl next door likes to play punk rock music, and can never hear her unless she’s right outside her door. Nepeta liked the girl well enough, but she was a little creepy to be around and Nepeta didn’t know if she actually attended this school or not.

 However, she was glad that she had somebody here to escort her to her room, because it being a Friday night, there was bound to be a party somewhere, which meant that there had to be some drunk college students smashing bottles and vaping outside her building. And drunk, vaping college students smashing bottles on the side of the building were never fun to pass alone. It wasn’t that she felt terribly unsafe, but more of the fact that she didn’t want anyone to think she was involved with that sort of crowd.

 Being escorted by a fellow student meant that it gave her a reason to avoid them, and not talk to them. Being escorted by a fellow student _also_ meant that, if something bad were to happen, she’d have a buddy to make sure she wouldn’t end up shanked to death in a garbage dump. She knew how she wanted to die, and she’d be damned if it would be at the hand of a bunch of dumb college students.

 They approached her building and headed up the short set of stairs up front, finding, surprise surprise, a few drunks hanging outside with bottles. Karkat wanted to avoid them too, so they entered in the doors that they _weren’t_ blocking with their bodies and booze, and headed into the building.

 “Which floor?” Karkat asked her, and Nepeta pointed to the elevator.

 “Third floor,” She noted, and added, “I don’t know which floor the party is happening --”

 “I’ll just walk you straight to your room.” Karkat said and left it at that, heading straight to the elevators with Nepeta on his trail.

 They called the elevator, and it dinged, and they waited a minute for the doors to slide open, and another few seconds for a bunch of drunk people to go running out, yelling and screaming with toilet paper strewn across their faces. Nepeta clicked her tongue and shook her head, heading into the elevator and clicking the third button from the bottom. Karkat entered as well, and the elevator doors closed and up they went, Nepeta stretching and yawning as the elevator dinged two times in total.

 The doors swung open and Nepeta told Karkat, “It’s at the end of the hall, this way,” And lead him all the way down until they reached the window at the end of the left hall. The hall was also a lot neater than the first, and she figured the party was taking place on the second floor currently Nepeta turned herself to the right and faced a door marked 3L, the little whiteboard attached to her door marked with her name right on it, followed by a cute little drawing of a cat. Nepeta grabbed her lanyard that had found it’s way under her shirt out and took the key on the end, leaning down and unlocking the door until it clicked, and opened up.

 “Well, thank you for walking me back!” Nepeta said with a smile, putting her bag on a little coat hanger she had on the side of her door and standing in the frame.

 “It’s fine, wasn’t that far,” Karkat noted, “My dorms are just across the way in the Porter Building, so it’s not a long walk.”

 “Well, I’m still grateful!” Nepeta told him and opened up her messenger bag, grabbing her botany books out of it. “I don’t really like the idea of walking back by myself when there’s a party going on, so I’m glad you were there!” Nepeta gave him a smile, and Karkat might have returned one, but in the dim lightning of the hall and her room, she couldn’t quite tell.

 “It’s good,” Karkat told her.

 “Good!” Nepeta said back, adding, “But, like, really, th--”

 In her efforts to focus on the conversation, she had tried to balance her books on one arm, and managed to screw up completely in the process. Her books wobbled precariously for a second before toppling onto the ground, and Nepeta backed up a little bit into the door to avoid getting her feet crushed.

 “Oh, shoot, I didn’t --”

 “Here, just let me pick them up,” Karkat told her, leaning down and picking the books up from the floor. He straightened up and held them out to her, and Nepeta smiled at him.

 “Thank you, for that!” Nepeta grabbed the books, their hands brushing lightly as she did. “I am _really_ just -- just like, a _mess,_ today.”

 “Maybe that’s because it’s one in the morning?”

 “That -- That might be it, you know!”

 “I know, it’s a groundbreaking idea.”

 “I have no idea how you might’ve come up with that one.”

 The two stood there for a minute, Nepeta smiling up at him and Karkat maybe-smiling back at her, though she couldn’t quite tell. She basked in the moment for as long as allowed.

 “Alright. I’ll, uh, see you in Botany, I guess,” Karkat told her, and Nepeta nodded.

 “See you then. It was nice to find out who you were, Karkat!” Nepeta grinned at him.

 “It was nice to find you who you were, too, Nepeta.”

 And he was gone.

 

 “Nepeta, sweetie, it’s your mom calling! I know you don’t have classes this weekend, so, obviously you’re gonna sleep in, but -- Please call me later! I need to talk to you!”

 Nepeta deleted the voicemail.

 She clicked the next.

 “Sweetheart, it’s mom again -- Meulin broke the backyard swing and it’s a really funny story I could tell you if you would just _pick up_ sometime! Call me!”

 Nepeta deleted the voicemail.

 She clicked the next.

 “Nepeta, it’s been _two weeks_ since you last checked in. I know you’re not dead, people find corpses on college campuses, especially ones with a criminology department. Call! Me!”

 Nepeta deleted the voicemail.

 She clicked the next, and final, one.

 “Nepeta. _Call me._ I know you’re angry with me about this, but if you would give me a chance to explain instead of declining my calls, you wouldn’t be! Please just answer your phone or call Meulin or _something_! I don’t want to drive all the way to campus, but I will if I have to! _Call me_!”

 She sighed, throwing the phone on her mattress and collapsing backwards onto it. She put her arms up underneath her head and listened to the phone ring again. It buzzed three times before it just hung itself up. Nepeta figured she was finally catching the clue.

 A sigh caught on her lips, she rolled over to the side, staring at the phone on her bed. It had been going on three weeks since she started ignoring her calls, and she wasn’t exactly planning on starting again anytime soon. Her mom would leave a voicemail telling her she was coming, and that’s when she’d finally answer. What she’d say, she had no clue, but she would answer.

 Distracted by her thoughts, she barely noticed the sound of a knocking on her door until they banged the second time, a little louder. Nepeta pursed her lips and looked at the door, then slinked off her bed in an increasingly lazy way, until she managed to stand upright. She scratched her messy hair, still slightly damp from the shower she took today, and strolled to the door, checking the peephole before yawning and grabbing the handle, pulling the door wide open.

 Standing there, as per his usual look, was Equius, one of the only other people she knew who was cursed with a name that stood out. She smiled at him, and the smile he returned was toothy and broken, but encouraging enough.

 “Hey, big guy!” She said, trying to be enthusiastic, and failing. He noted it.

 “Did I come at a bad time?” Equius asked her, and Nepeta remembered his uncanny ability to recognize her severe lack of control over her own life. Not like it was hard. “I can come by some other --”

 “No! It’s fine! Come on in!” Nepeta gestured towards her room and Equius strolled in, taking a quick look to gauge their surroundings. She yawned, and Equius turned back towards her.

 “Are you tired?” He asked, evidently curious, and Nepeta nodded.

 “Who isn’t, it’s almost the end of my college experience! Of course I’m gonna be tired!” Nepeta grinned, shutting her door and moving to give Equius a big hug. “I’d love it if you’d join me in being tired.” She gestured towards her bed, stacked with pillows perfect for nap sessions.

 “I’m going to have to decline today,” He told her, and she pouted, “I didn’t come by for long, I -- I just wanted to drop in and see how you were holding up.”

 “I’m doing great!” Nepeta blatantly ignored the vibrating phone on her bed. “Peachy keen!”

 “That’s good!” Equius smiled at her, noting the blatantly vibrating phone. “Are you -- ?”

 “Oh, that’s just a telemarketer, or the IRS.” Nepeta saw his face drop a smidgen. “Not the real one.”

 “Oh, yes, of course,” Equius said, nodding and smiling again. She could see the sweat starting to show on his face. “Nevertheless, if everything is going good here, I must get going.”

 “Where ya goin’?” Nepeta questioned, staring at him with big, forlorn eyes, hoping to guilt him into hanging out with her instead.

 Equius was unmoving, though. Unstoppable force meets immovable object, and all that.

 “I’m meeting someone today for --”

 “A date?”

 Equius’s face dropped, and Nepeta put on a huge grin.

 “ _Y_ _ooooouuuu’reeee going on a daaaaaaate_?” Nepeta sang, showing off her best “I told you so” face. She could tell Equius was sweating, despite his obvious attempts at not trying to do just that. He had swung a towel over his shoulder, as a look or as part of a gym routine, she didn’t know, but he was currently putting it to use by dabbing his forehead. He half-assed a smile and nearly knocked his sunglasses off.

 “I -- I will not disclose any information involving or related to --”

 “Do they have your mark?” Nepeta cut in, eager to know. She could tell Equius’s eyes were averting hers, behind the sunglasses and behind the  _lies_.

 “I -- I will not disclose any --”

 “Oh come on! Give me something here!” Nepeta threw her hands into the air. “Throw me a bone! Do you even _know_ what their mark looks like? How about a first letter? A favorite color? A societal status imposed on us by the bourgeois?”

 “Pink.” Equius said.

 “Pink?” Nepeta responded.

 “Her favorite color.” Equius said.

 “ _Her favorite color!?_ ” Nepeta yelled, in corresponding crescendos.

 “Yes.” Equius said.

 “That’s adorable!” She squealed, grinning and grabbing Equius’s hands; his sweaty, sweaty hands. “I love it! She sounds so nice already!”

 “I’m glad you think so,” Equius told her, smiling slightly down at her. “I think so too.”

 “This is so fantastic! Equius, I’m so proud of you!” She wrapped her arms around his abdomen and squeezed him tight. “For a while there I thought you’d never get over . . . over . . . Um . . .” She stopped hugging him and narrowed her eyes, trying to come up with a name. It had been so long since she last saw her.

 “It’s fine, I understand what you’re saying, Nepeta,” Equius noted, “But I am very glad you like her, despite not knowing her or her name.”

 “Of course I like her! You’re nice, so she’s gotta be nice too!” Nepeta grinned up at him for the fiftieth time. Equius replied likewise.

 “Well, if you ever do intend on meeting her, I’m sure she would oblige, as long as I meet her right now, “ Equius noted and moved towards the door, Nepeta standing where she started.

 “That’s good! Tell me if it goes well!” Nepeta told him as he opened the door. Equius smiled back at her, and walked out with a closing door behind him, and she felt very pleased standing in the middle of the room for just a minute.

 Her face fell just a bit, and she sighed just a bit, and her phone rang just a bit. She ignored the latter, running a hand through her hair and scratching her left arm, a habit she had formed whenever something to this effect happened. She had stopped looking at it long ago, and often covered it with band-aids just to stop her thoughts.  Her nails scratched the tattoo on her skin, and she went off to the bathroom, having never noticed the outline now placed beside hers.

 

 “So, if we look at the anatomy of a peony from a different perspective, you’ll notice the . . . “

 Nepeta yawned, bored and tired and wanting to sleep. The very next Friday she was here, in class, about to drift off, as was her usual state of being. She couldn’t tell what time it was -- It really didn’t matter to her at this point -- and she’d probably fail this class anyway, and why not waste her last few days in here by sleeping them away? She tapped her fingers against the desk, her thoughts making up a good opening statement as to the defense of her napping for the long run.

 Her eyes strayed, and they strayed to the clock on her far left.

  _12:03 a.m_.

 Hey, that was the same time she looked at it last Friday, before she fell asleep! She smiled slightly to herself, and wondered if the guy next to her was --

 Hey, wait.

 He wasn’t here.

 The guy who had walked her back to her doms last week -- Was it Conner? Cara -- something? No, there weren’t any c’s in it, he had said that -- He didn’t show up! He was playing hookie! Breaking the rules! Avoiding responsibility!

 . . . . Which sounded better than what _she_ was doing, now that she thought about it. But _still_.

 She looked at his empty seat quizzically, curious as to why he would desert so close to the end of the year. It was only five more classes. He could handle that, right? Or maybe he couldn’t? Maybe he was dead? Maybe she was just being presumptuous and was trying to let her bored mind take the littlest relief it could in this wretched class? Who knew? Not her.

 What she did know was that the guy -- Kara, Karta, Kar . . . It was something weird! -- wasn’t here, and she decided to let herself get preoccupied with that fact. She wondered if he was out because a family member had died, and the funeral was at midnight. Or maybe he was out because he had broken a light bulb and the building had been flooded with a terrible stench that he was instructed to fix? Or _maybe_ her dreams of Leatherbottle were _finally_ coming true, and when they left class they’d all see the dude’s dead body nailed to a wall (She had since decided Leatherbottle would nail his dead victims to walls, as an intimidation tactic.).

 Nepeta, while excited at the prospect, hoped that the guy -- Kark, Klark? Karter, no -- wouldn’t be hung to a wall. She sort of liked him! Enjoyed his company the one time she got to! He seemed nice enough -- a fair bit cranky, but he still walked her to her dorm, that was sweet. He wasn’t half bad looking, either -- The dark hair suited him well, and she figured he would probably have a girlfriend already. Guys like him got snatched up much too quickly for her liking. She preferred slow-burn.

 She sighed to herself, pouting slightly. She was actually looking forward to seeing him again -- She didn’t have many other friends other than Equius here -- and figured she could hang around and talk to him, maybe. She had barely gotten his name last time, and even that she didn’t remember. She was hoping she’d get it, and a little bit more, tonight.

 Alas, she was destined to be _bored_ all class. Just like the rest of the year, she thought, yawning and putting her arms on the desk. She leaned backward, her eyelids lowering just enough as she nonchalantly poked her left arm, scratching it slightly. She was going on two weeks without looking at her mark, but her sleeve got jostled upward by her hand, and she got to see the lines stained on her arm. A small bit of ink jotted down on her wrist in a way she had long since begun despising.

 When she was younger she thought it was cool. She used to color it in with a washable purple marker and draw a face on it, thinking to herself that one day she’d find out what the other half would look like. She didn’t, and after a while, she began hating the thought of it.

 But scratching at the mark made her think about it, and thinking about it just made her want to look at it. She didn’t _want_ to look at it. But she _did_ , scooting her arm towards her and rolling up her sleeve. Nepeta sighed, unprepared and desperate to take yet another look at the simplistic lines that were her utterly helpless (hopeless?) love life.

 But something stopped her little sigh of resentment; it got caught in her throat, and it _stuck there_.

 The world felt frozen for a moment, the sound distant, slowed, _warped_ , as she stared down at her wrist. Her _wrist_. The _mark_.

 Unconcealed, evident, visible, _noticeable_.

 Her usual, simple moon on the right.

 And the unusual, simple sun on the left.

 She coughed, looking at it in disbelief and moving her chair backwards, the chair screeching against the floor. She knew the teacher had stopped talking when she did, and most of the eyes in the room went to her. She couldn’t quite see them. She was left looking elsewhere.

 After a moment someone said something and Nepeta didn’t hesitate, grabbing her bag and standing up, her sleeve falling back down to where it was previously. Her teacher said something, but she did not answer, nor listen, as she moved towards the door, throwing it open and walking out, heading down the dimly lit halls of Leatherbottle and holding her wrist in her other hand with a death grip. She nearly tripped on her own feet when she turned the corner, and deciding to lift her head helped her see the glowing exit sign at the far end of the hall.

 When she got there, pushing the door open and being hit with the cool spring night’s breeze, she found herself pummeled with questions.

_Who was it?_

_When did it appear?_

_Who did she touch last?_

_What was significant about it?_

_Why’d it have to be a sun?_

 “It’s a _sun_!” She exclaimed to nobody but the old oak tree beside her. “A frickin’ _sun_! It just had to be _obvious_ , did it?” A loud groan escaped her, and she heard a rustle in the trees.

 “Yeah girl, _yell it out_!”

 Nepeta froze in her tracks, a pitiful noise caught in her throat and she turned on her heel. She found nobody, and could hear nothing.

 “I -- I’m sorry?” The voice that came out of her mouth didn’t feel like it was hers.

 “Get those feelings _out,_ girl! I know the idea!”

 Did it . . . Did it come from  _above_ her? Nepeta paused and looked up, and found herself staring right at a girl who blended in naturally with the tree.

 She grinned at Nepeta.

 She looked like a shark.

 “Had to be a sun, _right_? Sucks, don’t it?”

 Nepeta couldn’t quite make her out, but the girl seemed intent on getting into a conversation with her. She could hear the ease of branches and the crackling of sticks as the girl tossed and tumbled her way down, before she ended up on the branch closest to the bottom. Nepeta stared at her, and the girl sat on the branch.

 “Well come on, I know you’re still angry!” The girl yelled, and Nepeta could feel herself smile. “Let the anger rise inside you and recede like the tide!”

 “What do you --”

 “Is it the whole not bein’ able to see me deal?” The girl cut in, her questioning tone wrought with an accusatory slant. “I do feel a lot like a supervillain in this, gotta be honest. But I’m a little scared of dropping here. Not exactly the best at falling, if you catch my drift!”

 Nepeta didn’t know what drift she was catching, but she nodded in agreement, figuring the girl could see her. “Yeah. yeah I -- I get it! D’you think -- maybe I could join you up there, then?” She bit her lip, knowing the one self defense class she took in seventh grade would never pay off the way her life is going.

 “What, you don’t think it feels more sacrilegious for me to feel like God giving a sermon to his flock below?” The girl laughed a little, and Nepeta followed suit. “‘Course it’s fine, come on up.”

 Nepeta moved to the trunk, and the girl noted that, “It’s a lil’ easier to start on the other side of it, there’s a nice pair of stair-like branches.” She followed her instructions and found that, yeah, it was easier that way, and quickly scrambled up the tree, taking care to avoid a dead looking branch that swayed with an odd level of intensity. After a minute or two Nepeta was able to get to the branch the girl was sitting on, and managed to acrobat her way over, plopping down onto it from a higher branch. The overrated stick veered dangerously for a minute before it stopped, and the girl had nearly grabbed onto her arm for support. Once it stopped, she laughed.

 “If we had dropped I’d be sending you my hospital bills.”

 “You don’t know my name, you wouldn’t be able to,” Nepeta responded, looking over at the girl. Now she could see her, and her giant pink skirt she was wearing. The only other thing she could make out in the dark was her, surprise, pink horn-rimmed glasses.

 “Wouldn’t want to know it, either. Let’s keep this like a weird, vague, fairy godmother-esque thing, right?”

 “Yeah, sure! I can do weird, vague Cinderella-esque.”

 “Perfect,” Her fairy godmother said, probably grinning. “So, _Cindy_ , what’s up with the sun thing? Had to be obvious and all?”

 “I just . . . “ Nepeta had to take a minute to think if she really wanted a stranger to know about her dismal love life.

 It didn’t take long to think that yeah, yeah she did. “My mark’s complete.”

 “Oh, and that’s got something to do with the sun?”

 “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got the moon and they’ve got . . . the sun.” She sighed, scratching her head. “I just -- I’ve been wondering what it’s gonna be for _years_ , and now that it’s here, and I -- I don’t think I _want_ it here.”

 “So you were scared of validation, and _now_ you’re scared of dismissal.”

 “I guess.” Nepeta leaned backwards slightly, trying to figure out how far back she could lean without falling off. “I just never thought I’d be dealing with this. Maybe I was hoping I wouldn’t?”

 “I don’t know what you were hoping; I mean, I did just meet you.”

 “Yeah.”

 A moment of silence passed, and the crickets returned.

 “Who are they, anyway? Anybody I know?”

 “ _I_ don’t even know.”

 Another moment passed.

 “ . . . Oh. Well, that’s just peachy.”

 “I _know_.” Nepeta groaned, a bit more emotion spilling out into her words than she intended. “And I don’t even know when I got it, I haven’t looked at it for _weeks_! I try not to! I made myself do it tonight, in the middle of class!”

 “Christ.”

 “I _know_!”

 “And you haven’t been to any parties, right?” Fairy godmother asked, “Accidentally brushed by anyone?”

 “I don’t go to _any_ parties.” Nepeta noted, “I hate big, social things like that. Well -- Well not _always_ , but . . . if there’s someone I know, then yeah, they’re fine, but -- No. I haven’t been to a party in at least three months.”

 “That’s good. Brush up against a lot of people at those.” Fairy godmother sighed. “Anybody you don’t know, maybe got to know a little bit? Brushed hands, _shook_ hands, anything like that?”

 “I don’t _think_ so, only person I remember touching these last few weeks was my friend, and we already know we’re not matched.”

 “Anybody you know of that’s maybe stopped being around you? Disappeared all of a sudden, no reason why?”

 “I mean, not that I -- “ And Nepeta stopped, because suddenly, a bad, terrible, unthinkable thought came to her.

_What if it was the guy who walked her home?_

 Couldn’t be. He didn’t _touch_ her. Did he? She barely remembers his _name_! She would remember his name if he were _important_ , right? But he barely gave her a glance! He would’ve said something, he seemed like that kind of -- Okay, well no he didn’t, but still! She would _know_! Wouldn’t she?

 “Been quiet there for a minute,” Fairy godmother noted. “You thinking of someone?”

 “I -- Yes.” Nepeta stared at the ground. “I -- I think . . . I think maybe, there was -- there was someone.”

 “You know who they are?”

 “Vaguely?”

 “Know where they live?”

 “I -- Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Nepeta straightened up. “They -- He lives across from my dorm, it’s not a long walk, it’s the Porter building --”

 “The Porter building? It’s a five minute walk from here,” Fairy godmother told her. “You don’t remember his name, or anything else?”

 “I know it had a couple of K’s in it.”

 “That’s as good as start as any, now all you need to do is find him.”

 “But, I don’t know if he’s even --”

 “ _Really_ , you’re not Cinderella, you’re that Prince Charming dude,” Fairy godmother snickered slightly. “Just gotta put your mind to it! You’ve got the mark, there’s bound to be _someone_ there who’ll be able to match it up! _Right_?”

 “Well, I mean --”

 “ _Right_!” Fairy godmother slapped her back, getting a loud noise back from Nepeta. “Go find your date, Charming! Any excuses you have are _void!_  Get a move on and find your _one true love_!”

 “I -- I guess --”

 “ _Go_!” She pushed Nepeta slightly, urging her to start moving, and Nepeta took this to mean she wanted her off the branch and in the Porter building. Nepeta slid off, landing with both feet on the ground and slightly off balance, but not dead. The girl looked down at her.

 “Well, _wow_ , I couldn’t do that if I tried. That’s an eight foot drop.”

 “I’m good at that kind of stuff?”

 “Good to know, if I ever meet you again in this tree I’ll know to just push you off.”

 “I’d prefer if you didn’t --”

 “No matter!” The girl yelled, grinning. “Go find Cinderella! Tell him the Fairy Godmother sent you!” Nepeta smiled up at her, giving her a thumbs up before she started running, breaking off in the direction of the Porter building. A beaming sense of pride and residual terror starting heating up inside of her, and she could feel an odd pressure weighing itself on her shoulders. But, before she could get away, she heard one last piece of advice.

 “ _And look for the matching slipper, Leijon!_ ”

 And she didn’t hear any more.

 

 The Porter Building was old, huge, disappointing if nothing else, and  _bland_. It stood at six stories tall, the largest dorm on campus that crammed as many students as it could inside, and was the clear winner in worst architecture. The building swayed and creaked when a stiff breeze hit it, and if she wanted to, she could probably knock it over herself. She didn’t quite want that, though, at least not until she found that one true love thing.

 Naturally it was dark inside, the lights dimmed or otherwise out so that anyone who cared could sleep, and when Nepeta slipped inside, she noticed the front foyer was almost pitch-black. She saw a student passed out on the couch, covered in books and snoring as loudly as he possibly could. Nepeta figured he was studying for finals, which would be in just a few short months, and she decided it best not to wake him.

 She was hoping someone might be awake, wandering around pointlessly so she might be lucky enough to bump into them and ask about the tattoo. It was a long-shot, she knew, but she still wished desperately for it to happen. She stalked the halls, looking for something, _anything_ that might clue her in. A light appeared under a door at the very end of the hall, and she hurried towards it, running up and knocking.

 Opening the door, several agonizing moments later, was some freshman kid who looked thoroughly stressed. His eyes widened when he saw Nepeta, and she quickly got to the point.

 “Hey, weird question to ask at midnight, _but_ \-- You know anyone with a lot of K’s in their name, got a sun for a soulmark, lives here?” She asked, and the boy stared at her for a second.

 “Try the second floor.” He said, and closed the door.

 So Nepeta tried the second floor. She ran up a flight of stairs and saw a light on right in front of the stairwell. Wasting no time, she knocked instantly, and was greeted _almost_ instantly by a girl who looked like she was high into the sky.

 “Hi, I’m wondering if you might know --”

 “I’m . . . “ The girl sighed, her eyes drooping and her long locks of black hair swaying dangerously across her face. “I’m not _selling_ \-- I’m not selling anything.”

 “Do you know someone with a sun for a soulmark?” Nepeta asked quickly, hoping she could keep her attention for long enough to gain some sort of info.

 “A sun? Like . . . “ The girl moved to the side and pointed at a picture on her wall of a sun. It had some quote in french surrounding it. “Like that one?”

 “Yeah! Does anyone --”

 “Oh, _yeah_! Yeah, yeah, _yeah_ , I _know_ someone like that!” She stumbled on her words, grinning and leaning on the door. “You . . . You _should_ check the fourth floor. He’s . . . _He’s_ cute.”

 “Great, thank you!” Nepeta patted her shoulder, awkwardly, and for no real reason at all. The girl grinned at her as she turned, heading back for the stairs.

 “Yeah, yeah no _problem_ ! Come by if you ever need a friend!” The girl yelled. “Or _booze_! Or -- Or a date!”

 “Will do!” She gave her a big thumbs up, and the girl returned it, giving her a sloppy grin and the internationally known hand signal of _call me_. The stair doors banged shut behind her and Nepeta trekked her way up to the fourth floor, hearing a wind crash against the side of the building and feeling the shiver that followed.

 The door to the fourth floor was a fire hazard, with half a table stuck in front of it on the other side. Nepeta pushed desperately on the door, pulling the handle and, slowly, steadily, moving the table. After a solid two minutes of pushing, the table hit the other side of the hallway, and she couldn’t open the door anymore. The little bit of space she had created was, however, just enough for her to side along and squeeze through. She did just that and ended up half in, half out, out of the door.

 Nepeta could tell she had a problem on her hands as she lifted herself into the air, using the table for support and slowly crawling her way onto it. The door was heavy, and she was not, so any force she put somewhere that was not the door was having to spent making sure the door wouldn’t shut on her foot, and she wouldn’t die from some unknown disease relating to getting your foot stuck in the door. She squeezed, and forced, then squeezed again, and kicked the door, and then squeezed, and then with a loud _bang_! The door snapped shut behind her, and she was now the weird girl with disheveled hair and half her shoe off crawling on a table at midnight-thirty with a backpack still clung to her side.

 The stupidest she’s ever looked, with one foot still on the ground and the top two buttons to her blouse having come undone, and she gave a silent prayer of thanks to anyone listening that nobody saw.

 And then of _course_ someone saw.

 End of the hall, some freshman kid with a hat on backwards and no shirt stared at her, half a pack of uncooked ramen noodles stuck in his mouth and a look of utter horror on his face.

 She stared him down, too.

 The moment they shared was good, pure, unadulterated.

 “We don’t speak of this.” He said, a lisp following his words. She couldn’t tell if it was the ramens or just him causing it.

 “We don’t.” Nepeta said.

 He backed away slowly.

 “Oh but hey!” Nepeta yelled, and he jumped, his ramen almost falling out of his mouth. “Do you know a guy with a lot of K’s in his --”

 “That is _not_ a way to start a conversation --”

 “ -- name, his _name_.” Nepeta frowned. That did sound bad, now that she thought of it. A moment passed. “He has a sun on his --”

 “Down the hall, seventh door on your right.” He pointed right down the hall that branched off from the one he was already in.

 “Thanks!”

 He nodded, backing away slowly again until he faded into the shadows. Nepeta sent out a silent sigh, sliding off the table and buttoning her shirt, hoping and praying she wouldn’t end up on some weird social media website under a post titled, “So I just met a weird chick on a table who asked for a dude with a lot of K’s in his name.” She took a deep breath then marched forward, and when she reached the hall the dude was in, he was nowhere in sight.

 She turned and headed down that hall, a feeling of power and also sickness in her gut. She swallowed, counting the doors as her breathing became horrid little breaths that were closer to hyperventilating than breathing. A heartbeat thumped wickedly in her chest, and her stomach plummeted every time she took another step forward.

 And then there she was.

 Seventh door on the right.

 Guy with a sun tattoo on his left wrist.

 God, _fuck_ , she wasn’t ready for this.

 But fate was tricky, and it guided her hand to the door, and she knocked three times.

 She felt her heartbeat quicken; the butterflies in her stomach swarmed the rest of her system, rising from her throat and feeling like they would burst out any moment now. She couldn’t stand this dreadful feeling in her, like something terrible was going to happen in about two seconds, and she would be powerless to stop it.

 And then it did.

 The door swung open, and standing there, tired and scowling and looking utter death was --

 Was _fuck_ , she still doesn’t know his fucking name.

 

 Karkat Vantas was tired.

 Like, really tired.

 Two seconds before _she_ came in, before _she_ could manage to fuck up his life, he had gotten a text.

 It read: _Hey dude ur soulmate iis out here and she looks fuckiing piissed_

 So he knew that tonight was the night that he would lay  down and died.

 But the two seconds that passed before he heard the knock were such blissful moments. His life flashed before his eyes, almost as if he was dying right then and there. He saw his dad, preaching, and his asshole brother, also preaching, but for a different reason. He saw that one time he went and bought an ice cream from the truck that spewed god-awful nursery rhymes. He saw his senior prom, and then wanted to die all over again, but unfortunately that’s when the knocking happened.

 His phone beeped with another text: _II know thiis because ii just saw her crawl through the doorway. You know. The one wiith the table iin front of iit. That no one could move_

 His phone beeped again, right after he had gotten up and felt sick to his stomach, so he didn’t get the chance to see it.

 The trek to the door, literally two steps from his bed, felt like a death march. His hand on the cold knob to the door felt like a chilling reminder that misery arrives at the worst times. The click the door made as it opened -- it reminded him that, _fuck_ , she probably knows your _goddamn name._

 

 She did not.

 Nepeta stared at him, and Karkat stared back, and the two had a moment unlike any other they had experienced before. Nepeta felt a sudden drowning sensation as she seemed to stop breathing, and Karkat could almost hear the sound of a knife twisting its way through his gut. A moment of pure anxiety flittered between the two, and it was almost a relief to be startled by the sound of an alarm clock, to Nepeta’s far right, all the way down the hall. They both jumped, Nepeta swinging around and staring off in a fit of panic, but Karkat seemed to react a little less abruptly. He only jumped before realizing the noise, and letting out a breath that he had unknowingly been holding in.

 Someone yelled at the alarm, but neither really cared what they had to say. Nepeta’s sigh of relief as she turned around to face him seemed to fully dismantle the tense moment, but she still gave him a smile riddled with anxiety.

 “Hey, uh, there.” She gave him a small wave.

 “Yeah. Hi.” He said back to her, waving too. He waved with his right hand, and Nepeta thought for the briefest of seconds that she could see the edge of a mark. She didn’t comment on it, instead toeing around the subject.

 “How. How are you?” She asked, a calm demeanor planted cleanly on her face.

 “It’s one in the fucking morning, Nepeta.” He replied, tired, and Nepeta nodded, looking down and around and anywhere but his face. She scratched the back of her neck.

 “Yeah, yeah it -- it is!” She added a slight laugh to her comment, but it didn’t feel right. “I just, um -- It’s just -- You didn’t. Show up to class. Tonight.”

 It was his turn to look down and around and anywhere but her.

 “Yeah, that is something I did _not_ do.”

 “I just . . . I was just wondering, y’know, if . . .“ Nepeta paused, looking for the right words but finding that they had disappeared on her. He, however, didn’t seem to want to wait for them.

 “Alright, can we -- can we stop bullshitting this, because, I’m going to be real fucking honest --” He took a deep breath. “ -- This is fucking -- Weird. This is _fucking_ weird.”

 “Yeah, yeah it --”

 “Can we fucking talk about this?” He asked her, cutting over her and gesturing for her to come inside.

 “Yeah.” She said, and did so.

 

 Karkat closed the door behind her, and she seemed to take stock of his room. A very grey-toned environment, with posters littering the walls and a poorly-made bed. He could only imagine the horror she must have felt, knowing that her soulmate was probably the most disorganized person on God’s green earth. If his brother was anything to go by (he wasn’t), apparently this made him very unattractive.

 She turned after she took in the room, and looked back at him, and Karkat very well realized that he could die. He could die right now. Looking like she was, she was prepared to kill him. Her hair was straggling all over the place and messy, and fuck, she had her backpack with her, which could mean she had a _knife_ with her! And if she had a _knife,_ who _knew_ , she might have a _gun_ too! Or maybe she would just pummel him to death! _With her fists_!

 It was amazing what his thought process could do, jumping from the thought that she might be angry with him, for being her soulmate, to the thought that she would murder a man just for that.

 “So . . . “ She said, slowly, and painfully.

 “ _So_ you’ve got the fucking mark, right, because --” Karkat said, and Nepeta cut in.

 “Yeah, yeah, I -- I just, um --”

 “And it’s the fucking --” He rolled up his right sleeve a little, revealing fully the mark of the sun and moon forever embedded onto his skin. “-- It’s this, right?”

 “Right, yeah, it’s --” And she did the same, pulling up her own sleeve and showing off the terrible fact that they were soulmates. “It’s right there.”

 “And you’re telling me that you were waiting for me, to show up to class, to come and talk about --” He quickly said, but she cut in again.

 “No, I -- This is, it’s -- It’s gonna sound stupid!” Nepeta prefaced, then told him, “I just noticed it like, like at class.”

 Karkat stumbled a bit.

 “You _what_.”

  Nepeta seemed to play with her thumbs. “I know, I . . . I don’t really look at it.”

 “You mean,” Karkat said, after a pause, “That I’ve been stressing about this for the past _week_ , while you -- you were just _oblivious_.”

 “Well when you put it that way, it sounds bad,” Nepeta said, then quickly added, “But it is bad! You’re right! Totally right, I -- I should’ve looked, but, I didn’t!”

 “I’m not blaming you for not looking --”

 “See I just don’t normally look at it, right, because it used to be this whole reminder that I didn’t have a soulmate --”

 “I -- I don’t think I asked, but --”

 “--But now that’s good, I’ll stare at it for like hours now! So that’s all good!” Nepeta gave him an awkward smile.

 “Okay, um,” Karkat noted and put his hands together, “Great explanation for something I didn’t ask about, cool. _Anyway_ \--”

 “--Anyway, what now?” Nepeta asked, looking unsure and rather small, as if both of those things had just occurred and Karkat was, just now, noticing both of them. He looked at her odd.

 “What do you mean, what now?” He asked, and Nepeta took a little huff of breath.

 “I mean, what -- what happens now? What do we do?” Nepeta posed the question as if they both didn’t already know what happens now.

 “You’ve seen movies, now we have to fall in love and go on a date, get fucking married, and live the rest of our lives as a success story.” Karkat pffted. “Didn’t think it was that hard to get.”

 Nepeta looked at him odd. “ . . . I mean yeah, that -- that is one way to look at it.”

 “What do you mean, one way to look at it?” Karkat asked; There were no other ways to look at it, the way he detailed was the way it happened. “That’s how it always works.”

 “How do _you_ know that?” Nepeta pursed her lips at him.

 “Like I said, _movies_ \--” And he gestured over to a black and white poster on the wall. “--know how it works.”

 Nepeta looked at the poster, then smiled slightly. “Wait, you liked _Seasons of Love_? Really?”

 “Yeah, I thought it was a cinematic masterpiece, what does this have to do with--”

 “That movie is, like, terrible,” Nepeta grinned over at him, “It flopped _big time_ seven years ago, how could you enjoy that --”

 “Chris Pine and Lucy Liu share a _touching_ and _heartfelt_ relationship that deeply affected my personal views on love, I don’t know _why_ you would diss the best fucking movie of our generation!” Karkat exclaimed, and Nepeta giggled a bit, flaring something up in him. “Oh? Okay then, what’s  _your_ favorite movie?”

 “Oh, duh, _Apex Predator_ ,” Nepeta quickly told him. “The lava lamp scene with all the entrails just on the floor gets me every time --”

 “Horrible movie,” Karkat said, stone cold. “ _Unbelievable_ that you would like it.”

 “Excuse _you_ ,” Nepeta began, pointing a finger at him. “That movie won _seven_ awards and featured the great musical prowess of _Kevin Murphy_ , so I don’t know about _you_ , but --”

 “I see, so when _I_ diss a movie it’s the end times, but when _you_ do it --”

 “I wasn’t dissing it, I was just telling you the facts --”

 “In a _condescending_ way --”

 “That was perfectly justified!”

 “And _why_ is that?”

 “Because it’s a _terrible_ movie and you should be _ashamed_!”

 “Oh really?” Karkat exclaimed.

 “Really!” Nepeta exclaimed back.

 “Prove it!” Karkat yelled. “Tomorrow night, you sit down and watch it with me, and you explain to me how it could ever be _anywhere near_ terrible!”

 “Fine!” Nepeta yelled back. “And I’ll bring _Apex Predator_ too! So you can sit down and tell me why it’s such a _horrible_ movie!”

 “Good!” Karkat shouted.

 “ _Good_!” Nepeta shouted back.

 There was silence, for a moment.

 “So . . . So it’s a date.” Karkat noted, quietly.

 “Yeah. It’s a -- It’s a date.” Nepeta replied, quietly.

 “Cool, cool, um, I guess around nine --”

 “Yeah, that sounds fine.”

 “Yeah, okay. See you -- see you then.”

 “See you.”

 

 And Nepeta Leijon left.

 

 . . . . She still didn’t know his fucking name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s gonna fuckiing murder you
> 
> II would help you out here, but you don’t liike Apex Predator, so thiis iis your comeuppance
> 
> She probably loves iit
> 
> She just fuckiing pushed open the goddamn unpushable door, of course she loves iit, THATS WHAT JIILL ROYCE DOES IIN THE FUCKIING MOVIIE

  When Nepeta Leijon was four years old, her mother sat down with her, holding her arms tight, and told her that the mark on her wrist would stay forever. It wasn’t just a colouring book on her skin, it was _'_ _important'_  and _‘permanent’_ and _‘beautiful’_ , or so she was _told_. Her mom talked to her for an hour all about how one day, another mark would appear, and it would mean that her soulmate had touched her. And when that happened, she’d better be _ready_ to enjoy that person for a while, because they were bound by the moon in the sky, and the stars above. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and patted her arm, and her father came in two minutes after to ruffle her messy hair and give her a great big bear hug. Her parents kissed, and she smiled, and she knew then that the stars weren’t terribly bad at matchmaking.

  Meulin may still believe that, but Nepeta decided the stars were stupid the day she went to her father’s funeral.

  She had wondered, in that nine year old naivety, if her mother’s mark would stick around. It didn’t. It started fading the moment he was gone, and when only a week passed, it had dulled to where she could just barely see the golden apple, pierced by an arrow and bleeding down her leg. She knew some people went and got it redone by artists, in ink that would fade but never leave, but her mother never did that. At the ripe age of fifty-three, all you could seen on her leg now was the piercing point, where the arrow hit the apple.

  Nepeta figured she didn’t want it redone because the original was better; Meulin thought it was because leaving it there, abandoned, seemed fitting, more romantic.

  Her mother knew it was because old wounds never heal, only soften.

 

  When Nepeta was only twelve, Meulin found her soulmate at sixteen. A weird, senior high school student, with an almost obnoxious head of hair and a tendency to sign in ASL. Nepeta didn’t know if he was mute, or deaf, or anything at all, he was just -- odd. She didn’t understand him. She never learned ASL, but Meulin did, and she never could understand how they could move their hands so quickly, holding long, silent conversations between the two of them.

  Nepeta didn’t like him that much. Kurloz didn’t like her much either.

  So they avoided each other.

  Her mom would tell her to get to know him, but what was there to know? He never talked, not in a way she understood, and she didn’t even like him, anyway, so what was the point? She didn’t care what he did, or who he was, and he didn’t care either. His soulmark was his humerus, and Meulin’s was a thorny rose that ran around it, and that’s all she needed to know about him, and about their relationship.

  She knew he had a brother, though.

  Kurloz didn’t talk about him at all.

 

  “Nepeta, Nepeta -- Answer. _Your phone._ ”

_Delete._

  “This is going to be my _last message!_ Answer, please!”

  That’s what she said last week, _delete._

  “I’m not going to ask again, Nepeta.”

  Delete, delete, delete.

  “I know you’re deleting all my messages ‘cause your inbox is _never_ full! Checkmate, sweetheart! And answer me, _please!_ ”

  Ah, so she’s catching on. _Delete._

  “Nepeta, I’m --”

  “Hey, you in there?”

  Nepeta stopped the recording, looking over to her dorm room door, and smiled briefly. She threw her phone down on her bed and sat up, fixing her hair slightly and jumping off her bed, a new spring having suddenly been added to her step.

  “This dorm is fucking soundproof, so I literally can’t hear you in there if you are, but --”

  “I’m coming, gimme a second!” Nepeta yelled, jumping over to a mirror hung on her wall and making sure she looked rather okay enough to answer the door. She figured yeah, she did, but after leaving the view for half a second, she popped back into it, just to make super extra sure.

  Once she was super extra _mega_ sure, she scurried to the door, unlocking the chain and swinging it wide open, greeting one of the most important people in her life with the biggest smile she could muster.

  “Hello _darling_ , _light_ of my _life,_ my _sun,_ my _warmth,_ my --”

  “So is our entire relationship just going to be fucking sun and moon puns because if so I’m breaking up with you right now --”

  “Hey! I can do _other_ puns! I went through a cat phase in high school, don’t make me go back through it just for you!” Nepeta threatened him, pointing and jabbing a finger into Karkat’s hoodie-covered chest. He shook his head, letting a very small, very brief laugh, which he wouldn’t have done if he knew Nepeta was  _still_ in that stage, the terrible liar that she was.

  “No, no, I’m _good,_ thanks,” He told her, pushing her backwards slightly and entering the room. Nepeta grinned at him, closing the door behind them and putting her hands on her sides.

  “Well then, if you’re not here to insult my sun puns -- “ Nepeta pursed her lips, her eyebrows raised. “ -- Then what _are_ you here for?”

  “Well, _weed,_ obviously --”

  “Go to another dealer, _buckaroo_ \--”

  “ -- But can’t I just be here to be here?” Karkat asked her, a curious look on his face. “I can’t _just_ want to see you?”

  “I never said that!” Nepeta exclaimed, smiling. “I just wanted to know if that was your intention with coming by!”

  “Well, that’s half the reason,” Karkat noted to her. “The other half is because that guy you saw when you came to see me, with the uncooked ramen in his mouth --”

  “Oh yeah you told me about him, he’s --”

  “Stupid, yeah, but -- still, he wanted to know if the two of us would be up for a -- a date. Thing. On Sunday,” Karkat seemed to struggle with the words, but Nepeta got his meaning and nodded as he continued. “He and his -- his, uh, his boyfriend, they wanted to --”

  “Sollux has a boyfriend?” Nepeta questioned, looking curious. Karkat nodded, and Nepeta pursed her lips again. “How’d he score that?”

  “See, that’s what _I_ always wanted to know,” Karkat noted, distaste rising in his voice. “He’s a fucking _slob._ The bottom of the barrel. You know how he is, you saw him at fucking midnight --”

  “And here I was thinking you guys were _friends_ \--”

  “Well he is!” Karkat exclaimed, throwing a hand up in the air in a bout of frustration. “He’s disgusting! He wears some dumbass 3D glasses he stole from a movie theater and has an ugly buzz cut from the 1930’s, and he thinks _I’m_ the uncultured one!?”

  “Well,” Nepeta started, “Seeing as your knowledge of media goes to the distant past of _2012_ , I’m not too sure he’s wrong about that one.”

  “Oh, so just because I didn’t get a fucking facebook until I was at the ripe age of seventeen, that must mean I was a hermit living out of the back of a van,” Karkat’s eyes narrowed, in that way that his eyes squint and he brings his lips upwards, in a pout. “Good to know.”

  “Hey!” Nepeta pointed at him, squinting. “Lose the attitude! I didn’t let you in this room to listen to you whine about your poor choice of friends!” She picked up a pillow and threw it at him, just for an extra exaggeration.

  “Oh, just let me fucking _whine,_ ” Karkat groaned, catching the pillow in his arms and squeezing it. “It’s the only way I can truly express the constant barrage of shit I deal with every day.”

  “No whining in my room!” Nepeta told him, wagging her finger. “You can whine all you want when _I_ am in _your_ room, but when _you_ are in _my_ room, you keep the complaints to a _minimum._ You’ll mess up the vibes!”

  “The _vibes_?” Karkat said.

  “The _vibes,_ ” Nepeta said back.

  “What are --”

  “They’re very important.” Nepeta nodded, importantly, and Karkat, silent, nodded back, importantly.

  “Well, in any case, --”

  “Yes, I’d love to go on a date with Sollux and his boyfriend,” Nepeta answered, before he even started. “I don’t care what we do, as long as it’s not swimming.”

  “You don’t like swimming?”

  “I hate the ocean, I hate the water, I hate anything that could pull me out to sea and drown me,” Nepeta stated, shaking her head. “It’s dangerous and I _hate_ it.”

  “Good to know?” Karkat said, nodding slightly to himself and looking vaguely confused. “Any reason for it?”

  “When I was five I went out into the ocean and a jellyfish brushed the back of my leg. I was scared to death and I cried until my dad came and fished me out of the water, and my mom carried me all the way back to our hotel,” Nepeta shuddered recalling the story, “I could’ve _died_ that day. I’m not going anywhere _near_ that terrible thing.”

  “Oh, well, okay, that’s not as bad as I thought it was,” Karkat noted, “I thought, like, I would hear a story of how your best friend drowned or some shit.”

  “Your fault for overhyping it.”

  “It really was.” Karkat gave her a quick look, and Nepeta smiled at him, trying to look like she had an all-knowing smile, but probably just looked a little drunk. Which she was _not,_ but she was told often that her smiles looked like she was.

  Karkat shifted, walking over to Nepeta’s bed and plopping down on it with a thunk, and the awful bed creaked and moaned until it got comfortable under his weight. Nepeta sighed once it stopped, and the two were left in comfortable, borderlining awkward silence as they both tried to relax around the other. She was still in a state of disarray, the two of them still trying to figure out what the status of their relationship was now that the two were marked. Neither of them had said much about dating, officially, or changing their facebook status, and neither seemed to really want to. They both had the inevitable want to prolong the conversation as much as they could, no matter how necessary it may have been.

  Nepeta brought her arms together, crossing them and rubbing them slightly, and looked down at her knees. He looked over and stared at her, obviously thinking something and wanting to act upon it, but couldn’t do so for worry if it might be inappropriate. He wanted to say here, you look cold, just take my fucking jacket, but the more he thought about the phrasing the more rude he found it to be, and tried to think of another way to put it.

  “Um, so, about the date thing --” Nepeta started, and moved to sit next to him on the bed. “-- Do you know where we might go? Is there a certain place or . . . ?”

  “Oh, oh, no --” Karkat told her, glancing over. “No, we’d probably go bowling, or just down to the mall or something.”

  “That would be fun,” Nepeta noted.

  “Yeah,” Karkat said.

  Another moment of silence, and Nepeta opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again.

  “So, uh --” Their voices collided with each other, trailing off with Nepeta’s slight, nervous laughter, and Karkat’s awkward, wary sleeve pulling. Was the red flannel he wore really that uncomfortable? Nepeta glanced at it and saw that yes, it did look a little tight, but -- but maybe it was him? Maybe he was uncomfortable? Was she making him uncomfortable?

  Wait, that’s bullshit, she thought, he came to  _my_ dorm.

  Karkat sighed a little and she looked over at him, and he glanced at her when she did.

  “Sorry, I just --” It almost sounded like stammering, but the confident tone he took didn’t agree with the words coming out of his mouth. “I just, um -- Is that your phone ringing?”

  He pointed, and she looked, and why yes, it was. And he was close enough to the caller ID to see that it was not, like she had tricked Equius into thinking so many times, the FBI, or a holiday cruise company wishing to give her a free cruise. It, very clearly, said “MOM” in big, capitalized letters, like a stop sign but without the red. The subliminal message of " _STOP_ " was still apparant though. He stared at her as it rang for the fourth time.

  “Are you gonna --”

  “No,” Nepeta answered, quickly, cutting him off and shutting her mouth. Karkat stared at her until it rang for the seventh time, when he opened his mouth again.

  “It’s your mom,” Karkat said, as if that wasn’t obvious and as if that wasn’t the stupidest thing to come out of his mouth, aside from the statement, “Apex Predator is a terrible movie,” of, which, she had not forgotten, and only filed away to use for later blackmail.

  “It sure is,” Nepeta responded, the eighth ring ringing.

  “Is there a reason --”

  The phone fell silent, with the third missed call in the last four hours.

  They sat in that silence for a long moment.

  “Are you --”

  “Was there a --”

  They both stopped, shutting their mouths and looking away from the other. Nepeta noted, mostly to herself and not to Karkat, that if she wanted to get anywhere in this relationship, she’d have to really delve into her own personal morals and feelings about her parents; or, rather, _parent,_ but she probably still had unresolved issues featuring the other one, too. Her point being that it might be a good idea to let him now what was happening in her life.

  Karkat shook his head.

  “Do you not like your mom or something?” He asked her, a curious expression crossing his otherwise tired (Or pissed? He always looked pissed) face.

  “She’s fine,” Nepeta told him, then completely ignored the advice she had just given herself and lied, “She’s just clingy.”

  “Oh,” Karkat noted, nodding now, “I get it, my brother’s like that. I’ve probably ignored half his phone calls, too.”

  “Well, there’s something we have in common!” She smiled, punching his arm. “We both habitually ignore or exclude some, if not most, of our family members!”

  “You’re not wrong,” Karkat smirked, rubbing his arm where she had hit him, finding himself a little less tolerable to pain than he would have wanted. “He’s a pain in the ass, I don’t blame you for letting your mom stew in worry for a little bit.”

  “It’s a hobby,” Nepeta shrugged, shooting him a well-earned smile. “Anyway, um --”

  The sound of a voicemail hitting her phone with the force of a thousand tiny baby raccoons scurrying across her bed in an attempt to imitate a vibrating computer made her jump, just a little. She glanced over and saw the message, and Karkat did, too, apparently, rolling his eyes.

  “I think I have enough worrying in my own personal life, so,” He stood up, the bed bouncing back to it’s original form, “I’ll let you listen to your voicemails alone.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” Nepeta smiled, adding, “I guess I’ll see you Sunday, then?”

  “Yeah, I’ll text you when those two figure out their plans,” Karkat said, nodding a little. “If they ever do.”

  “I’ll trust you to keep them on their feet,” She said with a pointed finger in his direction. Karkat exhaled through his nose, sort of like that laugh that you do when something isn’t funny enough for a full-blown reaction, but you still want to show that you were entertained.

  “That’s quite a responsibility,” Karkat noted.

  “And you’re quite the responsible person,” Nepeta responded.

  “I’m not sure that’s true,” Karkat told her.

  “We’ll find out, won’t we?” Nepeta smiled with another exhale from Karkat, almost a wheeze with the added effort he went through to include his mouth in the equation. She waved him off. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye,” Karkat waved, the door opening and closing with him.

  Nepeta did that thing with your lips, where you make the sound of a horse by blowing through your lips. Whatever that’s called, she did that, leaning forward a little bit and grabbing at her phone with a slight slump. Glancing at the phone. Seeing the voicemail. Feeling like she was doing this for the fifteenth time today.

  A sigh crossed her lips as she pressed the play button, listening to the final two voicemails left; The one she had been listening to before Karkat came in, and the new one.

  “Nepeta, I’m telling you, this is your last warning. I’m not going to --”

  She’d heard that one before.

  Delete.

  Press play.

  “Nepeta, I’m coming over this Sunday. I’ll see you around five.”

 

  
  “Mom, I _swear,_ you don’t have to come! I’ve told you _before,_ my phone deletes voicemails --”

  “I have heard _enough,_ Nepeta!” Her mom almost yelled and Nepeta swung the phone away from her face. “Do you expect me to believe you can’t see the _fifty missed calls,_ too?”

  “ _Nothing’s wrong,_ mom! We’re good here, everything’s fine, there’s no reason to come!” Nepeta exclaimed, running an anxious hand through her hair. She could see her mom shaking her head.

  “You know why I’m coming over, I want to talk to you, _face-to-face,_ Nepeta.” Disappointment reared it’s ugly head and seeped through her phone. “Don’t try to weasel out of this. You need to talk to me about what’s been going on! I want to be sure you’re okay --”

  “Everything’s _okay,_ mom!” It was Nepeta’s turn to almost shout, now. “I’ve told you a thousand times, it doesn’t matter anymore! I don’t care about it! And I certainly don’t want to talk to --”

  “He’s a perfectly fine man, Nepeta --”

  “I’m _not_ talking to either of you about it!” Nepeta wanted to rip her hair out. “If he comes --”

  “I won’t bring him if you don’t want me to, but please, Nepeta --” Her mother sighed. “Talk to somebody. Talk to _me._ Hell, talk to your friend, Equius! You know he _calls_ me, worrying about you? About how you don’t answer your phone?”

  “He _what?_ ” Nepeta’s voice went high, and her stomach sunk low. A chill she didn’t notice before swept into the room, and her fingers went numb. “What do you mean, he _calls_ you?”

  “Equius is the only way I know about anything that’s _happening_ to you, sweetheart, I should be _thanking_ him. He looks out for you when you’re three-hundred miles away, it’s a _miracle_ he wanted to go to the same school as you.”

  Nepeta felt the phone slip in her hand.

  “Nepeta?”

  A hard thunk sounded as it met the floor. She didn’t look at it.

  “Nepeta, are you there?”

  She felt her foot fall forward a little bit, and a hand went to her stomach. That chill crept towards her gut and started ripping it apart.

  “Sweetheart?”

  She glanced at the floor.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to pretend I’m not --”

  Her fingers snatched the phone up and hit the end call button.

  She stared at her phone for a second before dropping the act and staggering towards her vanity, her socked feet dragging across the floor until her stomach hit the hardwood. Her hands pressed up against the drawers and she clutched them, the sound of her fingernails dragging across the searing hot wood feeling more comforting than the ringing in her head. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and choked back a sob.

  Nepeta’s hair fell over her eyes, and she was swirling six feet under.

 

  “So, I was thinking this Saturday -- Nepeta! Hey, Nepeta!”

  Vriska’s hand started snapping in front of her face, and Nepeta blinked a few times, snapping out of her imagination, and looked over.

  “What?” Nepeta asked, looking curious and genuinely confused. Vriska stared at her, just a little bit pissed at her.

  “Hello? Earth to _Nepeta,_ I’ve been talking to you for the last five fucking minutes?” Vriska snapped, a glare printed across her face. “Jesus Christ, you’re even worse than I thought you were.”

  “Hey!” Nepeta pushed her shoulder a little bit, and Vriska rolled her eyes.

  “You’re oblivious, live with it, _anyway,_ as I was _saying,_ ” Vriska enunciated, shooting a frown towards Nepeta as they sat in the classroom; It had let out a few minutes ago, but most of the students were still milling around. “You’re good at the whole history thing, right? I was thinking you could help me study for finals, your dorm, tomorrow, this ringing a bell?”

  “Oh, right, right,” Nepeta nodded, smiling now. “Yeah, I can help! Is there a specific --”

  “I have a twenty-page essay about the Tudor period, in England,” Vriska noted, chewing the top of her pencil. “War of the roses, and whatever.”

  “Have you started it?”

  “Do I _ever_ start anything?”

  Silence creeped over as the two shared a long look.

  “No,” They both agreed. Vriska nodded.

  “So, like, three in the afternoon? That sound like something we could do?” Vriska asked, and Nepeta nodded, thinking up her schedule already.

  “It’s Friday, today, so . . .” Nepeta connected a few dots in her head. “Yeah, that’ll be okay.”

  “Good, I can’t wait to leave this fucking place,” Vriska told her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. She glanced at Nepeta, still lost in her own thoughts. “Y’know, I’m glad Equius told me about you. You’re a real . . . “

  Nepeta glanced at her as she struggled to find the words.

  “. . . _Asset,_ to me,” Vriska finished, staring straight ahead. Nepeta nodded slowly, and looked back down at her notebook, covered in stickers and little reminders to herself about whatever it was she needed to remember. A few moments they sat, before Vriska looked back at Nepeta again.

  “Hey, is something going on between you and Equius?” Vriska asked her, adding, “Y’know, I’m, like, his _only_ other friend, so he told me that you avoided him at lunch yesterday --”

  “No, we’re fine,” Nepeta ran a lie through her teeth, and Vriska squinted.

  “You sure?” She asked.

  “Yeah, totally,” Nepeta noted, playing with her pen for a second. “We’re good.”

  “Okay, well, maybe tell _him_ that,” Vriska noted, leaning back in her seat and yawning. “He’s worried about you, for some fucking reason. But _look_ at you! You’re _fine,_ right?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Nepeta smirked, nudging Vriska’s elbow. She grinned, nodding along and pointing lazily at her.

  “See, look at you! All _independent!_ ” Vriska said, earning a laugh from Nepeta. “You know, I’m pretty sure we’re the only two people in this fucking classroom who aren’t bound yet. Thank _fuck._ ”

  Nepeta glanced at her, suddenly remembering why her wardrobe had changed to long-sleeved t-shirts and jackets. Vriska smiled as if what she said was very true, and Nepeta decided to nod along, hoping to change the subject a little bit. Vriska, however, was stuck on it.

  “Y’know, I’ve always said eight is my favorite number,” Vriska noted, looking down at her hand. “But I dunno, thirteen is starting to grow on me.” She showed the palm of her hand, giving Nepeta a clear look at the number stuck on her palm. Clean black ink stained her, and it looked kind of cool, honestly. Just a number.

  Not a shape or picture or metaphor.

  A number.

  Nepeta smiled at her.

  “Yeah, I -- I think it’s pretty cool, too.”

  Vriska smiled.

  “What was yours again? A star, or a moon, or something --”

  Nepeta stood up in her seat.

  “Hey, I actually need to go see Equius, so,” Nepeta noted, pointing towards the door. Vriska was startled by the sudden action, but if she was suspicious, she didn’t say anything.

  “O-kay, I’ll see you Saturday, then,” She responded, slowly, and with suspicion.

  “Can’t wait!” Nepeta told her, waving as she sided her way out of the room, exiting with the other twenty students. Vriska gave a short wave in response before Nepeta couldn’t see her any longer, instead dropping herself into the hallway of a building that was distinctly not Leatherbottle. The halls in this area were distinctly more wooden, and had wallpaper; a stark difference to the cold linoleum flooring and dim lighting of the science buildings.

  She carefully maneuvered her way around the chatting teams of people squashed up against the walls of the hall, taking care to avoid walking too fast and tripping on someone’s heel, and walking too slow and tripping on someone. Brushing shoulders, pushing aside, ignoring eye contact; The day had been a perfect look at her college experience thus far.

  However, the doors of ol’ Abbey-Beckham weren’t far, and she pushed her way outside as the evening hours began to wane. The sun dipped below the horizon line and filtered through some of the trees that had been skillfully planted around campus. If this was any other day, she’d be heading to get dinner before going back to her dorm to prepare for a class that started at eleven.

  This was an any other day day.

  The campus was large and exciting, with people enjoying the evening on the grass at picnic tables or on the steps of buildings. The air was warm and natural, comforting as opposed to the cold, still air in Abbey-Beckham. Leatherbottle didn’t have that problem, but Nepeta wasn’t thinking about that, and instead realizing that her problems have this odd desire to pile up on her and not solve themselves.

  Which, by the way, was her own fault.

  “Hey, Nepeta,” A voice said, making her jump and turn on her heel, which, all things considering, was a bad idea, seeing as she was on the stairs right now, and about to fall right off them.

  Thankfully, that voice fell ownership to a hand, and a body, and a set of gray eyes.

  That hand, and, subsequently, the body that belonged to a person, reached out and caught her by the strap of her bag, pulling another hand out (For a total of two!) to grab her side, pulling her back to the step. Nepeta wobbled precariously for half a second before she managed to regain her balance, and she let out a soft sigh, looking up and into the previous noted grey eyes.

  “Oh, _hey,_ Karkat!” She let out a breathy sigh, her hands falling to her side instead of held up in front of her. Karkat smiled, just the corners of his mouth tipping upwards.

  “Hey,” He replied, and Nepeta nodded a little bit.

  “Um, is there . . . “ And her voice trailed off as she glanced down, and saw the hands still holding her, one against her side the other now pushed onto her shoulder. He glanced down, too, and seemed to notice.

  His hand on her shoulder glided down her arm before falling to his side, the other quickly following suit and he stood on the step above her, making him at least another four inches taller than her. She noticed this, and noticed the absence his hands left, and noticed how the evening light looked really nice on him all of a sudden, and felt just a strange twinge of something. Nepeta thought for a second, wondering if that could be love that she felt, then realized how dumb and cliche that thought sounded and shook it out of her head.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t _like_ Karkat, it was moreso that it didn’t _feel_ like they were soulmates. She recalled her parents, who were always kissing, or hugging, or doing something equally romantic and involved that made it just _look_ like they were together. And Meulin, and her -- _her_ boyfriend, they were always within two feet of each other, barely making an effort to look like they had any personal space, which was ridiculous and stupid but they were still _together_. They _looked_ like they were together. They looked like they had a _spark_.

  With Karkat, it was just so _sudden_ and _real,_ she hadn’t even known him for that long before it was made abundantly clear that they were meant for each other. She didn’t know how to act, or what to do, or how to think about it; It just happened. She’d never been in any other relationship than whatever the two were in right now, so she didn’t even _know_ what any of this was really supposed to mean. It was infuriating, and piled on with all her other problems that were going on right now, it just made things a little bit worse.

  But he had caught her, and now she was feeling just a little bit better.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” Karkat started, then realized the pun he had made and took a second before continuing, “Sollux finally made a decision, we’re going bowling around five on Sunday.”

  “Really?” Nepeta asked, knowing her other engagement at that exact same time; Y’know, the one she _hadn’t_ agreed to.

  “Yeah, is that still okay?” Karkat asked, curious, “If you don’t want to --”

  “No, you know what?” Nepeta said, smiling slightly now. “That is _perfect,_ he couldn’t have picked a better time. Maybe we could all meet up in front of here?”

  “You’re cool with it?” He questioned, shoving both his hands in his pockets and tilting his head to the left a bit.

  “Of course I am!” Nepeta told him, her smile widening as her shoulders moved upwards in response. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I dunno, you just don’t look like a bowling type of gal,” Karkat noted, smiling a little bit now, too. Nepeta rolled her eyes and reached up, pushing him in the chest.

  “ _Sure_ I don’t,” Nepeta said, “I’ll have you _know_ I am the _best_ bowler in my family.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” She noted, “I am the _only_ person who’s _ever_ gotten a strike.”

  “Oh, wow, I am so _impressed_ ,” He responded in clearly staged astonishment, and Nepeta let out a short laugh. “Do you have a trophy, too?”

  “I do, actually,” Nepeta told him, grinning, “The staff there felt bad for us so when I got a strike they handed me one of those plastic ones --”

  “ _Please_ tell me you have it in your dorm --”

  “ -- It’s on a shelf in there, yeah,” She knocked an elbow into his side. “Do you want to get takeout and see it in person? I’ll pay.”

  “Well, in that case I’d _love_ to,” Karkat said, smiling easily as she led him down the steps. “Turning down takeout has never ended well for me.”

  “I’d love to hear _that_ story.”

  “Maybe I’ll tell it to you.”

  “Maybe you will.”

 

  That evening, in her dorm, she felt a calmness in her chest. The entire night, it felt like how she remembered her childhood, in that weird, never-ending sense. Everything was so nice, and calm, and sweet; It all felt very _real_. They were chatting, and eating, and throwing around her bowling trophy, and almost breaking the head off of her bowling trophy, and watching some weird french movie Karkat liked with the subtitles on (Because she didn’t know french, and he had scoffed at her, saying, “ _You don’t know french,_ ” in that snobby voice he had). It was one of those romance movies he liked so much, and when she glanced over part way through a much too dramatic scene he pointedly looked _away_ from her, and she had to wonder if he was _crying_ , and when he looked back he seemed fine and asked her what she was looking at, and she had to refrain from saying, “ _You,_ ” and instead saying, “ _Were you crying?_ ” which garnered a very loud and offended, “ _No!_ ” and that’s when she decided to shut up and watch the stupid french people kiss again.

  And when they finished, and got to talking, they just couldn’t stop. It went on, and on, and _on,_ until they realized they had about ten minutes to get to Leatherbottle, the building across campus, and both of them shot up out of their seats and sprinted through the halls of Plathe, ending up on the campus green with eight minutes to go.

  When they arrived, out of breath, in Leatherbottle, the entire class stared at them. Except for the professor, who didn’t even notice them come in, and instead was drawing a diagram of what looked like a gerbera daisy stamen, or, in better terms, it’s dick.

  Class came and went in a whirlwind of nothing but the two pulling their phones out and texting each other the entire way through, absolutely bored to death. Most of their texts consisted of them saying they were bored, but adding a bunch of extra, unnecessary letters to it to make the statement that they were bored _very_ clear to the other person. Nepeta added a bunch of emojis to the end of one of her texts, which started a whole other train of trying to convey their thoughts in emoji form instead of whatever they were doing before. Every few seconds she would glance over and see him biting his lip, trying to figure out what to send back, and she smiled just a little bit.

  This wasn’t flirting, she thought to herself. Flirting was flowers, not flower anatomy; it was chatting lightly, not talking for hours on end; it was going to the theater together, not watching a few stupid dramas ripped off of some free movie website. They were _friends._

  She glanced at her arm.

  They were bound, but they were just _friends._

  Class ended, and the walk back to the dorms was considerably quieter than the others. They didn’t talk, or try to, just walked back to her room. No parties scheduled, they were uninterrupted as they slipped upstairs and arrived just outside her door at the end of the hall.

  “So,” Karkat said, leaning against her door frame as she flicked her light on and dropped her backpack on the floor. “I guess I’ll see you this Sunday, then.”

  Nepeta let out a very short laugh.

  “I guess you will,” She noted, hugging her arms and smiling at him. He smiled back, a soft look crossing his face as they seemed to stare at each other.

  This went on for a moment, until both of them felt odd, and looked away from each other, embarrassed and wondering if that was something that was supposed to happen.

  “Bye, then,” Karkat said.

  “Bye,” Nepeta responded.

  He left.

  Nepeta sighed.

  The door closed.

  Her body hit the bed.

  The night ending too soon for her tastes, thoughts began flooding into her head that had mysteriously disappeared the moment she had seen him earlier that evening. She felt a heaviness in her chest mixing with that floaty-feeling she was holding, and could feel the headache coming on as the happiness she had was melting into anxiety. She let out a long groan into her comforter before she flopped on her back, staring up at the ceiling and letting every question she had avoided hit her mind like a truck.

  Why didn’t she say no to Sunday? Why didn’t she try harder to avoid her mom? Why wasn’t she okay with her coming? Why’d she let it get this bad? Why’d she let _herself_ get this bad? How come talking to her mom was an impossibility in her mind at this point? Why can’t she just talk through her problems? Why couldn’t she just talk to Equius? How could Equius _do_ that to her? Did she really like Karkat, or did she just like that they were bound? Why didn’t they talk about it tonight? Why were they avoiding the topic so much? Was it her? Was it him? And, _fuck,_ could her mom _stop calling her!_

  She threw her buzzing phone off the bed, groaning as loudly as she possibly could to get out any excess anger towards herself and her communication skills. She felt so _stupid._ Talking would _help._ Talking to her mom would _help._ Talking to Equius would _help._ Hell, talking to anybody would help! She could talk to Vriska! Or -- She grasped at straws for a minute, wondering if there was anybody else she actually knew that well here. When she figured out that the answer was no, she groaned again, utterly morose and pathetic.

  She rolled onto her side and figured she could tell Vriska, maybe, when she tutored her tomorrow. Or -- or whatever she was doing, she didn’t know. Her phone buzzed again. She rolled her eyes.

  She picked it up, though.

  Nepeta leaned back in bed again as she saw a message pop up from some chatting app she had downloaded in middle school and never gotten rid of, because all of her friends back home were located on this very app. She opened it up and glanced at some of her group messages, knowing there was twenty-thousand things she hadn’t checked on since the semester started. She hadn’t received any private messages until just now, though, and when she took a closer look, the message was from somebody she didn’t even know.

  She glanced at the time.

  12:53 a.m.

  . . . She could fall asleep later.

 

[ **turntechGodhead** has sent you a **MESSAGE** ]

 **turntechGodhead** : hey you dont know me but

 **turntechGodhead** : youre on that fucking warrior cats forum right

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< uhhhhhhh

 

  Nepeta forgot that she had the little auto-personalizing-thing, that added the :33< before every message. She also forgot about how she was very active on “that fucking warrior cats forum” when she was thirteen, and maybe not the smartest person around.

 

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< yeah

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< like when i was thirteen

  **turntechGodhead:** cool cool

  **turntechGodhead:** see i was wondering because you and me

  **turntechGodhead:** we have a mcfucking problem on our hands

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < we … we do???

  **turntechGodhead** : we sure fucking do “ashfurdidnothingwrong325”

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< oh my god please dont ever use that name in front of me ever again

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < i'm already embarrassed enough

  **turntechGodhead:** look okay i'm not saying that it’s a terrible fucking name because ashfur did everything wrong ever

  **turntechGodhead:** but i am saying that and fuck that guy

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < excuse you

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < from what i remember

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< ashfur was a great character who did his job well and was there for squirrelflight when she needed him, i don’t know what youre talking about

  **turntechGodhead:** he wanted to kill her fucking kits

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < yeah and

 **turntechGodhead:** look it's irrelevant but fuck you

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < understandable, go on

 **turntechGodhead:** god anyway

 **turntechGodhead:** you know how you left a comment on a scourge x ashfur post where they were making out and said the picture the poster drew was cute

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < yeah that was back when i was a mod on the forum!

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < that was a fun time in my life

 **turntechGodhead:** well you can take your delorean back to that time because youre still a fucking mod on there and that picture is mine and someone is being mean to me about it

  **turntechGodhead:** so i'm calling the fucking Internet Police on their ass

 **turntechGodhead:** and thats you

 **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < thats me??

  **turntechGodhead:** thats you

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < oh no

  **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < what

 **arsenicCatnip:** :33 < what do you want ME to do about it??

 **turntechGodhead:** well i just dont know ms sheriff

 **turntechGodhead:** maybe theres this lil button you got

  **turntechGodhead:** called “ban”

  **turntechGodhead:** it's right under the button labeled “mute” and “fuck you”

 **turntechGodhead:** and when you press it

 **turntechGodhead:** maybe

  **turntechGodhead:** just maybe

  **turntechGodhead** : that person

  **turntechGodhead** : will be banned

  **turntechGodhead** : scary thought i know

  **turntechGodhead** : but who knows certainly not me the innocent harassed civilian who has done absolutely nothing wrong ever in my entire life, ms sheriff

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< oh shush

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i'll look into it >:/

 

  Nepeta sighed to herself, throwing her phone back to her bed and shambling over to where her laptop sat, open and black-screened. Her finger held itself against the power button until the screen lit up, and she sat down in her little spinny-chair with a loud and definitive _plop_. Her desktop background, forever an image of that cat hanging from the tree, blinked to life and she clicked the cute little sprite at the bottom corner. Of course she used Psyche instead of any other internet program, like Hephaestus or Cetus; Those were too _slow_ and _boring,_ in her opinion, and Psyche just worked better on her weird laptop, anyway.

  She looked through her folders, going all the way down to the very bottom to see if she had kept the bookmark to the warrior cats website. Her phone buzzed again, probably with another message from that weirdo, and she rolled her eyes and kept looking. A quick glance through the folder titled, “ _Never touch unless you want to feel ashamed of your actions,_ ” told her that yes, she had saved the webpage, and yes, she had kept it deep, deep under twelve other folders.

  She clicked it and popped up a -- _God_ , she was going to throw up from the sheer color. Everything was bright and orange and yellow and _ugly_ , absolutely disgusting to see or look at. She squinted at her screen and scrolled down, looking and hoping for a sign of whatever that one post the guy was talking about was called. Looking through three pages of this hellscape didn’t help her, however, and she quickly went back to her phone to ask for the name of the post.

 

  **turntechGodhead** : did you find it

  **turntechGodhead** : helloooooo

  **turntechGodhead** : earth to ashfurdidnothingwrong325

  **turntechGodhead** : you got the sights on the douche yet

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< wow needy much?

  **turntechGodhead** : yeesh

  **turntechGodhead** : cats got claws

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< yeah and youre this close to gettin slashed with em

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< dont try me buddy

  **turntechGodhead** : got it

  **turntechGodhead** : my hands are in the air ms sheriff

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< pffff

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< anyway

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< what was the name of that post you made?

  **turntechGodhead** : uh it was ashfur x scourge

  **turntechGodhead** : it was posted like seven years ago

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< you realize that there are dozens of post named ashfur x scourge right

  **turntechGodhead** : i do

  **turntechGodhead** : and you realize you can limit your search with terms like, oh, say, posted seven years ago, right

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< shush

 

  Nepeta did exactly what they said, filtering her search results by designating a specific time of seven years ago. And, lo and behold, eighteen posts titled “ashfur x scourge” popped up, and she easily found one that seemed a lot like this guy’s.

 

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< is your name possibly “imonlymakingthisaccounttopostthis51”

  **turntechGodhead** : catchy huh

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< :T

  **turntechGodhead** : i can see youre not impressed

 

  Nepeta rolled her eyes a little bit and clicked on the post and, by all accounts, the picture was fairly good. It got the right feeling across, and she nodded to herself, content with the post. She scrolled down and _wowzers_ , they were _not_ kidding when they said they were getting a mean comment.

 

 **ChuckleFish321 posted a comment (Two years ago)** :  
This has gotta be the wworst thing i havve EVVER seen

  
**Imonlymakingthisaccounttopostthis51 replied (Fourty minutes ago)** :  
Uhhh excuse you what the fuck do you not have basic Fucking Internet Manners

  
  **Chucklefish321 replied:**  
I'll havve “internet manners” wwhen you take this butt ugly fuckin picture down

  
  **Imonlymakingthisaccounttopostthis51 replied:**  
Okay aside from the fact of “fuck you” i posted this shit years the fuck ago

  
**Chucklefish321 replied:**  
I posted that comment twwo years ago i could be inferrin you the same fuckin question

  
**Imonlymakingthisaccounttopostthis51 replied:**  
Yeah and i just saw this now and responded and what the fuck did u do respond in two minutes thats RIGHT what the fuck dude

  
**Chucklefish321 replied:**  
Oh i'm sorry thats my fuckin internet manners you dick take the fuckin picture down it's butt fuckin ugly thats just the truth

  
**Imonlymakingthisaccounttopostthis51 replied:**  
I'll take my butt fucking ugly picture down when you apologize to your mom about being a c-section baby

  
**Chucklefish321 replied:**  
WWOWW LOWWBLOWW MUCH

 

  _Toddlers_.

  Nepeta was listening to _toddlers_.

 

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< youre both getting banned

  **turntechGodhead** : what

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< uh rule number 3, no cussing!!

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< it's LITERALLY on the side bar!!!!!!

  **turntechGodhead** : but he instigated it

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< yeah and who cussed first!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  **turntechGodhead** : what are you saying

  **turntechGodhead** : that *i'm* the bad guy here

  **turntechGodhead** : that *i'm* the one who fucked up

  **turntechGodhead** : when clearly

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< thats not what i'm saying

  **turntechGodhead** : it was mr chucklefish321 who was being a complete fucking ass to me

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< actually you know what youre right that is what i'm saying

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< look!!!!!!!!!!!

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< you cussed!!! He left a mean comment!!! Both are against the rules!!! And you posted this SEVEN YEARS AGO

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< WHY DID YOU REPLY TO A COMMENT FROM TWO YEARS AGO

  **turntechGodhead** : because i was feeling defensive alright

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< do you even use the website anymore???

  **turntechGodhead** : no but

  **turntechGodhead** : look youre gonna delete his comments right

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< duh

  **turntechGodhead** : then i'll live with the ban

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< cool wasnt asking if you would but i'm glad youre complying with the law??

  **turntechGodhead** : no problemo ms sheriff i always abide by the law

  **turntechGodhead** : especially here in warrior cats land

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< a lawless hellscape as of late

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< gee i really should take up this whole moderation business again

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< resolving problems that aren't mine are fun

  **turntechGodhead** : woah ms sheriff has problems unrelated to warrior cats

  **turntechGodhead** : who wouldve known

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< shush

  **turntechGodhead** : this isnt warrior cats ashfurdidnothingwrong325

  **turntechGodhead** : you can't ban me here

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i can block you

  **turntechGodhead** : shit

  **turntechGodhead** : in exchange for not blocking me i'll let you dump all your unrelated to warrior cats problems on me

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< what?? no!!

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< why would i do that!!

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< that sounds like the WORST idea why would i tell some random ashfur x scourge shipper all my problems

  **turntechGodhead** : hey i'm just saying

  **turntechGodhead** : that you have done me a service and i now owe you a debt

  **turntechGodhead** : if you dont wanna take me up on that offer thats fine but the offer stands

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< you know what

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i'm gonna give you a solid no

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< and decline the offer for now

  **turntechGodhead** : your loss ms sheriff no therapeutic skills for you today

  **turntechGodhead** : we’ll just have to postpone therapy for indefinitely

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< for forever

  **turntechGodhead** : you dont know that

  **turntechGodhead** : shit i dont either but

  **turntechGodhead** : my service is at your disposal when the need arises

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i’ll be sure to keep that in mind :/

  **arsenicCatnip** : :33< seeya weirdo

  **turntechGodhead** : seeya sheriff

[ **turntechGodhead** has gone **OFFLINE** ]

 

 

  “Okay, so -- what, Mary just killed a bunch of _prostitutes_?”

  “ _Protestants_ , and _yes_ , that _is_ where the Bloody Mary name came from, yeah.”

  Vriska snapped the book shut and looked directly into the vanity mirror, spotting her face in it. “Don’t try this shit with me, Nep, I don’t want a fucking demon on my ass with finals looking the way they are.”

  “ _What_?” Nepeta asked her, then saw the look Vriska gave her, and the mirror sitting just right there. “Oh, what, don’t tell me you believe that stuff?”

  “I’m _not_ trying my luck this week,” Vriska told her, in an almost reprimanding tone. “If you wanna play with demon fucks any other time, feel free to hit me up, but not when I’m just about to fail a history class because I don’t know when the fuck Anne Boleyn keeled over.”

  “To be fair, she was beheaded,” Nepeta noted and quickly received another angry look.

  “Could you just shut your mouth and stop saying words?”

  “I mean, I could,” She responded, “If you’d rather I just sit silently and not say _Bloody Mary_ \--”

  “You _fuck!_ ” Vriska picked up the book, holding it over her head in a threatening fashion, and caused Nepeta to sink backwards just a little bit, her hands held up in surrender. “Don’t try me! If the demon fuck doesn’t get your ass, _I will!_ ”

  “Gosh, _okay_ ,” Nepeta told her, “I won’t -- I won’t invoke a demon _this_ afternoon, okay?”

  “You _better_ not.” The seething tone of Vriska told her that she should abide by her promise, “If I catch the letter ‘B’ on your lips again your head is getting a new permanent _dent_.”

  “I’ll _remember_ that,” Nepeta said, “You can put the book down now, I paid, like, a hundred bucks for that thing.”

  Vriska dropped the book on the floor, the glare sticking around on her face as she pulled the book back open to the correct page.

  “Okay, anyway,” Vriska noted, looking at the pages, “You think if I focus on just the wives of the old fuck, it’ll be fine?”

  “Yeah, I mean, if she said to choose a subject _around_ the tudor period,” Nepeta said, looking down at the book and tapping a box that talked about Catherine Howard, “Then I don’t think it’s a bad idea to just talk about his wives. There’s a book series on each one of them, you know, you can probably find a few quotes from it online, it’s by Alison Weir.”

  “But you’re saying I can talk shit about Henry and write a hit piece on Catherine of Aragon, and the teacher will give me a good grade?” Vriska asked, and Nepeta shrugged.

  “I mean, if that’s what you want to do,” Nepeta told her, “I’d give it a fair grade.”

  Vriska pffted. “Good to --”

  Someone knocked on the door, startling the two girls and making Vriska put an ugly look upon her face. “What, did you invite someone else over too?”

  “No, I didn’t,” Nepeta said quietly, even though she didn’t need to; She often forgot her dorms were “ _fucking soundproof_ ” as her, er, soulmate said.

  “Then who the fuck --”

  “Nepeta, are you home?”

  She paled.

  Vriska noticed.

  “Why’s he here?” Vriska asked her, staring her down. “What, does he check in on you?”

  “I, um --” Nepeta stammered, looking for an excuse, or maybe a way to tell Vriska to hide, “I just --”

  “I would like to talk to you.” More knocking.

  “He’s not -- He’s not, like, here to _hurt you_ or some shit, right?” Vriska asked, laughing nervously, “Because, I mean, I didn’t peg him down as that, but --”

  “ _No_ , just --” Nepeta let out a breath, “Just -- He’s gonna -- Look, unless you wanna cause a _scene_ , you need to -- to get out of sight.”

  “What, is there drama I missed out on?” Vriska questioned, smiling a little, “Because --”

  “Either _out the window_ or _in the closet_ , Vriska,” Nepeta told her through gritted teeth, standing up and leaning towards the door. “Gimme a minute!” She called out, and gave Vriska a meaningful look.

  Vriska paused a minute.

  “ _Fuck_ ,” She whispered, and stood up, “I’m _not_ missing out on this.”

  She trudged to the closet and shut the door, moving one of the blinds so her eyes were clearly visible, and very obvious. Nepeta waved her hands at her, and Vriska tilted the blind a little bit so it was less conspicuous. Nepeta could just barely see the thumbs-up she gave her, and a groan slipped past her lips before her hands met the doorknob.

  She pulled the door, and -- there he was.

  Built like a brick house, muscles bulging out of that tank top he wore, was Equius. Sunglasses on and deep, deep bags under them, he was often the most threatening person in the room. If the outfit wasn’t enough, then just his height would be enough to scatter a crowd.

  “Nepeta,” Equius said, smiling a little, “I’m glad to see you.”

  “Hey,” Nepeta said and she could tell he instantly knew something was wrong. He was _so_ good at that.

  “Is something wrong?” He asked, concern crossing his face. His eyebrows knitted together, “I can always --”

  “Yeah, I’m just not in the mood, today,” Nepeta told him, hoping, praying even, that he would take the hint, even though she knew he wouldn’t, “I’d really -- I’d really like it if I could have some time to myself.”

  “Is it a school problem?” Equius questioned, stepping inside her room, and her space, “I know you and I are partial to the sciences, but if there is a problem elsewhere, I’d be happy to assist in any way I can.”

  “No, Equius, it's --” She sighed, stepping back, “I just want -- I just want to be alone, y’know? It’s got nothing to do with you.”

  Boy, was _that_ unconvincing.

  “Nepeta, I don’t mean to accuse, but I believe that’s a lie,” Equius told her, concern turning into skepticism as, for the sake of privacy, maybe, he closed the door. “Is there something you’re not telling me? If it’s something _I’ve_ done, please, don’t hesitate to --”

  “No, Equius, I’m _fine_ , and you --” She bit her lip, and looked down at her socked feet. “You need to leave.”

  “Nepeta --”

  “It doesn’t concern _you_ , alright?” Nepeta told him, looking up again with renewed spirit, “Just -- just _go_.” For extra effect, she pointed her arm to the door.

  This, quite possibly, would be her stupidest mistake of today.

  “What’s that?” Equius asked, and though his eyes were hidden, Nepeta knew where he was looking. She snapped her eyes towards her left arm, the one pointing, and -- and, _shit_ , her mark was sticking out.

  She snapped her arm down and pulled her sleeve. “It’s my _mark_ , Equius, you’ve _seen_ it, you --”

  “No, I thought --” Equius said, stepping closer, and, instantly, Nepeta stepped back again. He paused. “I -- I thought I saw something.”

  “Well, you _didn’t_ , okay?” Nepeta snapped at him, “But _thanks_ for reminding me about the whole _soulmate_ thing, I know you’ve got _your_ life all --”

  “I didn’t mean to --” Equius stopped, pulling his hand back towards himself. “I -- I was just curious, it’s been on my mind, lately. You know the --”

  “I didn’t ask, Equius,” She said, a coldness in her voice, “Just -- Just _go_ , okay, I don’t want to --”

  “Nepeta, if something is _wrong_ , please --” He stepped forward again, and they now stood in the middle of her room. “-- _Please_ don’t hesitate to tell me. I -- I’m only here because --”

  “Because my mom called you?”

  Nepeta stared at him, and Equius didn’t move. His hands held up a little, almost as if he were surrendering, but he only looked back at her through those glasses.

  “She -- She told you?” Equius asked, his voice as even as usual, but Nepeta swore she heard a tinge of nervousness grace him.

  “Yeah, she told me,” Nepeta said, her eyes narrowed now, “She told me _lots_ of things, Equius. So if you don’t mind --”

  “Nepeta, please understand, I was worried --”

  “That’s not an _excuse!_ ” Her voice raised, and Equius stepped back, “You -- You say you’re _looking out_ for me, that you want me to -- to be _safe_ , but --”

  “I only talked to your mother because you _weren’t,_ I saw the -- the _voicemails,_ Nepeta, I’m not an _idiot._ ” He leaned forward. “She -- She wants to _talk_ to you, you haven’t --”

  “That’s _none_ of your business!” Nepeta shouted now, a vile part of her raising it’s head, “That’s between _me_ and _my_ mom, you _never_ should’ve stepped in! It wasn’t your place to talk to _my_ mom about _my_ problems!”

  “You have _problems,_ Nepeta, and -- and she’s right, you need to --”

  “I’ve already _heard it,_ Equius, and _no,_ I’m not going to sit here and let that -- that _man_ try to, to _seep_ his way into my life!” Nepeta threw her hand in the air. “I’ve already had enough people _pretend_ to listen to me, okay! I don’t need _another_ , I certainly don’t need _him,_ and --”

  She threw her hands forward and pushed Equius back.

  “And I don’t need _you,_ either!”

  Her arms jerked backward, and the force of the push caused those loose sleeves of hers, damn them, to pull back. It was just enough to let Equius catch her mark, the one she was stupid and in love enough not to cover up with bandaids anymore.

  He paused, and in her frustration, she didn’t realize her sleeves were betraying her.

  “Nepeta.” Equius’s head dipped, and Nepeta glanced down where her arms were hanging in plain sight. Her mouth opened slightly.

  “ _Shit_ , I --” Nepeta’s right hand went to grab the sleeve, but out of the blue, Equius seized her arm, yanking her forward and making her stumble towards him. Both of his hands gripped her arm tightly, and she yelped from his grip, hearing the closet door open.

  “Hey--!”

  “Nepeta --”

  “Equius, you _motherfucker!_ ”

  Vriska appeared in a dramatic fashion, like she usually does. Equius didn’t let go, and barely registered her, only staring now at Nepeta, confusion painted across his face. Nepeta threw her arm out of his grip, pushing herself backwards and grabbing her arm, rubbing it to alleviate some of the pain Equius had caused. She forgot, sometimes, what a strong grip he had.

  “You didn’t tell me?” Equius said, quiet, and Nepeta frowned. He sounded hurt.

  _He should be,_ said her thoughts.

  “I --”

  “Why the _fuck_ would she tell you?” Vriska shouted over her, and both of them seemed to really register her now as she came forward, planting herself in between the two and sticking a finger into Equius’s chest. “You fucking tattled to her mom about all her little _problems,_ and you expect her to _trust you?_ Is that a fucking _joke?_ ”

  Equius stared at her, then looked behind and saw Nepeta. She didn’t move to help him.

  “You need to go,” Nepeta said, and Equius stared in between the two of them.

  He stepped back, swallowing, and as Vriska glared him down, he went to the door, opened it, and left.

  He didn’t close the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize ive never fucking read warrior cats
> 
> BUT HERES A SECOND CHAPTER HALF A YEAR LATER


	3. Chapter 3

  Incredible, overwhelming guilt makes every situation feel worse.

  Nepeta remembered that her father often said she would change the world one day. He’d prattle on about how she’d save the forests, or become president, or -- or make a lot of _money_ , she didn’t remember _specifics_. But he would say this, and smile, and then ask Meulin how her day was, knowing she heard everything he had just said. Meulin would say it was okay, and the conversation ended there, and Nepeta always thought their conversations were a little odd.

  She supposed it was comeuppance; Her mother preferred Meulin, of course, and Meulin preferred her. And her dad loved Nepeta, and Nepeta loved him. Of course, her dad loved the both of them, and her mother continued to love the two, but there was almost a rivalry between her star-crossed parents. Nepeta, excelling in her little art classes and becoming a secretary for her girl-scout troop; Meulin, wiping the floor with her acting skills and winning trophy after trophy in debate clubs. The scales weren’t balanced, but for their comparative ages, they were fair enough. At least her parents thought so.

  But it was odd, after the funeral, when there wasn’t a competition. It became Meulin dropping out of debate club and quitting theater, preferring to work at a flower shop for a little above minimum wage. Nepeta started moving above her, flying through science courses and taking part in her local 4-H chapter, and she started to notice Meulin become quieter and quieter. Even after she found her -- her _mark_ , she could only grow more silent. Nepeta wanted to blame that one on Kurloz, but she often wondered to herself, had he never shown up, if anything would have changed. She figured it wouldn’t. She figured it had nothing to do with Kurloz, and everything to do with _her_.

  But pondering on this didn’t help her.

  Pondering on _any_ of this didn’t help her.

  Some, Nepeta liked to remind herself, thought it _would_.

  They were _wrong_.

  Old, dead wounds fester when they’re poked.

  Nepeta did not poke.

 

 **turntechGodhead** : what so ur buddy just like

 **turntechGodhead** : fuckin ratted to your mom about all your problems

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< yeah

 **turntechGodhead** : well that sucks

 **turntechGodhead** : when ashfurdidnothingwrong325 said she had problems hoo boy

 **turntechGodhead** : i was not expecting this kind of problem

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< if you dont want to help then

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< like just say so

 **turntechGodhead** : no no

 **turntechGodhead** : it's fine

 **turntechGodhead** : just

 **turntechGodhead** : uh

 **turntechGodhead** : whyd you come to me about it

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< you offered your therapeutic skills

 **turntechGodhead** : no i mean whyd you come to me and like not a person who exists in the real world

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< you dont exist???? Woah this is news to me

 **turntechGodhead** : you know what i meant

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< idk i mean

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< my … friend? who saw it go down went after him

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< and idk what's shes doing but shes certainly uh. Doing it i guess??

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< and i dont really have that many friends here!!

 **turntechGodhead** : didnt you say sweaty hands saw your mark

 **turntechGodhead** : doesn't that infer a uh i dunno

 **turntechGodhead** : soulmate

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< yeah but

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i dont know him that well and

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< were sort of awkward right now

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< not in a bad way!!!! Stop typing !!!!!! let me explain things!!!

 **turntechGodhead** : sorry i'll keep my fat baby fingers off the keys

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< but i dont know him that well and i dont feel comfortable talking to him about this

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< we LITERALLY just met

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< so

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< plus eq and i have been friends for a super long time, and this is like, something that hasnt happened before!!!! and i dont want to lose his friendship!!! but!!!

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< idk he did this and now i'm angry at him and like how am i supposed to trust him because who knows what he's going to do with any information i give him????

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< so i dont know if i should go talk to him or if i should let him feel bad for a while bc he KNOWS i'm angry with him and i just ughhghguhguhughuhughguhgughuuhg

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< okay so it's been two minutes and you havent responded

 **turntechGodhead** : oh i thought you were still typing

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< well i'm not now

 **turntechGodhead** : okay so is this the part you want that expert therapy on bc i got some sick advice to drop on you

 **turntechGodhead** : like seriously this is what we, in the business, call the

 **turntechGodhead** : fuck i forgot what the word was but pretend i said something funny

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< omg that was so funny wow

 **turntechGodhead** : that was a god awful attempt but you know what beggars can't be choosers

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< go ahead

 **turntechGodhead** : okay SO

 **turntechGodhead** : on a very personal level, from my standpoint, fuck that guy

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< eq

 **turntechGodhead** : yeah him fuck him

 **turntechGodhead** : let him feel bad for a while

 **turntechGodhead** : whom the fuck does that lets be real

 **turntechGodhead** : you know who does that

 **turntechGodhead** : prostitutes and shitty people

 **turntechGodhead** : if he rats to your mom and expects you to be happy about it you need to give that dick a reality check

 **turntechGodhead** : and by reality check i mean deck him

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< he is literally a foot taller than me

 **turntechGodhead** : kill him

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< his arms are bigger than my head

 **turntechGodhead** : turn him to dust

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i would die

 **turntechGodhead** : yeah but

 **turntechGodhead** : look my point being

 **turntechGodhead** : you just gotta say fuck you sometimes

 **turntechGodhead** : hate to be the guy quoting vine in the year of our lord 2k18 but

 **turntechGodhead** : he doesnt deserve you

 **turntechGodhead** : if he doesnt treat you right by now

 **turntechGodhead** : youre gone

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< im gone!!

 **turntechGodhead** : now go chop his dick off

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i'm glad we shared that little moment

 **turntechGodhead** : me too

 **turntechGodhead** : point still stands though

 **turntechGodhead** : fuck him

 **turntechGodhead** : let him suffer a little bit

 **turntechGodhead** : you can't trust him and thats his fault

 **turntechGodhead** : he should know that

 **turntechGodhead** : it's not your fault for feeling shitty

 **turntechGodhead** : youre allowed to be angry at him bc he's got a stick up his ass

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< yknow i'm actually kind of glad i talked to you

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< youre being blunt and youre right!

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< he's in the wrong and i need to make sure he knows that!

 **turntechGodhead** : i'm telling you i am a great fucking therapist when i say things people want to hear it's fucking magic

 **turntechGodhead** : would it surprise you to say i'm majoring psych

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< youre a college student?

 **turntechGodhead** : yeah

 **turntechGodhead** : ending my second year p soon

 **turntechGodhead** : six left before i become a Certified Therapist

 **turntechGodhead** : and then i get on to accidentally fucking up the youth

 **turntechGodhead** : as a youth myself i can't fucking wait

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< lol okay

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< when people start yelling about those darn young people

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i'll know who to blame :p

 **turntechGodhead** : you come barging into my office

 **turntechGodhead** : throwing down an official complaint

 **turntechGodhead** : the complaint reads FUCK YOU in big red letters

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< it'll be in green red is too threatening

 **turntechGodhead** : oh of course

 **turntechGodhead** : woah heyy it's actually kind of late

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< oh oops

 **turntechGodhead** : are you in the same time zone

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< if the time zone reads 2:18 am then yeah

 **turntechGodhead** : oh shit

 **turntechGodhead** : talk about therapeutical magic

 **turntechGodhead** : forreal though i have plans tomorrow so

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i get it youre leaving me to deal with my own sad problems

 **turntechGodhead** : think of it like we’re pulling a raincheck on therapy

 **turntechGodhead** : next session we’ll get into the root of the problem

 **turntechGodhead** : your childhood

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< oh god lets not

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< thats a whole bag of cats

 **turntechGodhead** : a bag of what now

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< of cats

 **turntechGodhead** : howd they get into the bag

 **turntechGodhead** : who put them in there

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< it was i!

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< i put the cats in the bag!

 **turntechGodhead** : Oh Fuck

 **turntechGodhead** : your bag of cats is nothing compared to my room of crows

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< how did the crows get into your room

 **turntechGodhead** : i put em there

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< now thats just unrealistic!

 **turntechGodhead** : alright well fuck you

[ **turntechGodhead** has **BLOCKED** YOU]  
[ **turntechGodhead** has **UNBLOCKED** YOU]

 **turntechGodhead** : goodnight

 **arsenicCatnip** : :33< night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ **turntechGodhead** has gone **OFFLINE** ]

 

  The sun.

  Her _greatest_ enemy.

  The groan escaping into her pillow did nothing to block the light of day from hitting her face, and she suddenly felt overwhelming contempt for daylight savings time. She, also, took a moment to ask herself why she hadn’t bought thicker curtains, or put her bed somewhere the light didn’t hit it.

  “ _My mortal enemy_ ,” Nepeta groaned, picking her face up and looking towards the window. She frowned at it, as if that would do something, but flopped her arm a little and smacked Pounce De Leon in his face. He did not react. She flopped her body, and flipped over, and scooted, slowly, off the bed. Her back slid off and her head hit the carpeted floor with a soft _plonk_ , and she maneuvered onto the floor in such a way that would probably give anyone watching a very odd look upon their face. She groaned once her entire body lay there, on the floor, having moved barely a foot to her right.

  Nepeta finally sat up, stumbling to her feet and rubbing her back a little, moving with a lack of care over to the window. She leaned on the windowsill for a moment, peering out onto the campus green, already spotting two or three football players playing catch in front of her building. If the sun was in her room, that meant it was eight in the morning. What did anyone have to do with being awake at eight in the morning?

  She often asked herself that question, rubbing her head and opening the window up, letting in a cool breeze that she hoped would wake her up. It was starting to, and she yawned, moving over to her closet and popping that open.

  Fifteen quiet, unbearable minutes later, she got herself dressed and covered in layers of makeup that concealed how tired she was. Birds started chirping outside, and she grabbed her messenger bag, wondering if it was too late to participate in sitting outside and, she didn’t know, _studying_ , or, whatever it was that students did on the campus green.

 

  “Le Chatelier's Principle involves the change of the _status quo_ , not the change of _statice_ , hate to break it to you.”

  Nepeta stopped writing aimlessly, looking down at what she had written in her haze. Looking at the page told her she needed to spend less time in botany. She looked to her side, and with a start, realized a girl had been standing right beside her for who knows how long.

  “What?” The girl asked, popping a squat beside her and looking at her. “Did I, like, scare you? Because honest to god, swear on my fuckin grandmother’s _grave_ , I didn’t mean to --”

  “You’re fine --”

  “-- But I won’t swear that it wasn’t kinda funny.”

  Nepeta gave the girl a long, unamused look, one returned with a shoddy smile and a pair of dimples that looked too cute to be true. Her eyes narrowed, and wondered if she had seen the dimples before.

  “Do I know you?” Nepeta asked, pursing her lips and looking at the girl a little closer. She shrugged in response.

  “I mean, I don’t remember _you_ ,” The girl told her, brushing some lock of short, bleached hair out of her face, “Man, sometimes I just fucking forget shit, sucks to be me and all that jazz.”

  “Are you in my botany class?” Nepeta asked, trying to place her face, “It’s the one at literally midnight, on Friday?”

  “I am drunk off my ass at midnight, the _fuck_.” She popped a grin, nudging Nepeta’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t be caught fucking dead in a shitty class like _botany_ , who takes _botany_?”

  “Biology majors, apparently,” Nepeta noted, a little put-off, “Not like I wanted to --”

  “Drop the class, fuck botany, be a cool physics major like me, and stick it to the man,” The girl said, a steely, determined look on her face appearing, “That’s what we fuckin’ call, uh -- fuck, being -- being _rebels_! That sounded lame, christ.”

  Nepeta laughed. “Seriously, though, I feel like I’ve seen you before!”

  “I mean, fuckin’ -- I bleached my hair recently?” The girl explained, grabbing at the short strands, “Cut it, bleached it from black, decided that l liked that more than the color pink and went with it, y’know?”

  “Sure, I get it,” Nepeta told her, smiling, “I dyed part of my hair red back in middle school. It looked kinda cool.”

  “You should dye your hair again!” She exclaimed, grinning now, “You’d look rad with a, uh, like -- like auburn, orange hair! You’re already blonde, can’t be too hard, right?”

  Nepeta snorted, “Yeah, you’re right! It’d be fun, y’know, and it doesn’t last forever!”

  “That’s the spirit!” The girl told her, knocking a fist into her arm with a little more force than necessary as she plopped down beside her. “See, that’s what I’m telling you! College doesn’t last forever, neither does your hair, so who cares if you dye it a few times or drop a class? Fuck doing stuff you don’t want to do!”

  “Well, I kind of want to finish my year off, so I’m gonna go ahead and _not_ drop Botany,” Nepeta told her, “But I’ll take your advice on the hair thing! I haven’t done it in forever, so maybe I should give it another shot.”

  “Good, there you go!” She responded, “One step at a time, we’ll turn you into a little social anarchist soon enough!”

  Nepeta laughed, shaking her head and looking back down at her physics book, staring at it as the girl stared over her shoulder.

  “So, uh, you got any inkling of who I am yet?” The girl questioned, “Because, I'm gonna be honest, I’m invested in finding that out too.”

  “Um, maybe -- maybe your name would ring a bell?” Nepeta asked, looking back at her, “Or where you grew up?”

  “Rainbow Falls, New York,” The girl told her, smiling a little, “And it’s _Lalonde_. _Roxy_ Lalonde, see, I’ve always wanted to introduce myself like that!”

  “Oh, of _course_ ,” Nepeta laughed, “And I’m _Leijon_. _Nepeta_ Leijon, though I don’t think this is ringing any bells for either of us!”

  “You’re right, it’s not!” Roxy noted, pursing her lips, “Let’s see here, you’re not the girl my sister’s dating, right?”

  “On account of the fact that I’ve never really dated anyone until now, and it’s only kind-of-sort-of, I’d suppose not,” Nepeta said.

  “Huh.” Roxy sat in thought for a second, her eyes squinting far into the distance, watching some football players throw the ball across campus green. “Maybe . . . Maybe we went to school together?”

  “On account of the fact that I grew up _here_ , and _not_ in Rainbow Falls, New York, I’d say not,” Nepeta posed, and Roxy’s eyes widened a little bit.

  “You live here?”

  “ _Around_ here,” Nepeta noted, “Bay City, Oregon? That’s where I grew up.”

  “That’s that, uh -- that tiny little town!” Roxy exclaimed, “That’s, like, _three hours_ from here? That is _not_ from _around_ here.”

  “Yeah, but it’s still Oregon,” Nepeta told her, smiling, “All of it starts to look the same after a while.”

  “Still looks pretty real from my perspective, seeing as you’ve got, like, the ocean and water two feet from your door.”

  “ _Thirty_ miles.”

  “Thirty minutes!”

  Nepeta laughed, rolling her eyes and grinning as Roxy snorted, bumping her elbow and saying, “It’s pretty _fucking_ wicked, if you ask me!”

  “You grew up where? New York?” Nepeta asked, still smiling, “I can _imagine_.”

  “Yeah, there’s a waterfall there, and, like, a river, but -- not the _ocean_ ,” Roxy told her, “It’s all kind of cool, but it’s not as pretty as here, y’know?”

  “It’s only really pretty in the spring, when it’s all raining and blooming and stuff,” Nepeta said, “I’d love to see New York in the fall. It must be great.”

  “Hey, I lived there, I could take you!” Roxy exclaimed, smiling again, “Fuckin’, go on a road trip and shit, y’know? That’d be _righteous_.”

  Nepeta snorted. “ _Righteous_ , sure. But -- it’s not fall.”

  “Never said how long the road trip was gonna last.”

  The two girls shared a look, then Nepeta rolled her eyes, and then Roxy jabbed an elbow into her arm, and then they were both laughing alongside small cries of pain coming from the shorter girl.

  “You hit so hard!” Nepeta almost shouted, rubbing her arm as Roxy wiped tears from her eyes. “That -- That _hurt_!”

  “Oh, boo-hoo, says the biology major,” Roxy laughed, leaning backwards, “In her last two month stretch, all of a sudden a mean ol’ physics major comes around and bumps elbows, and suddenly she’s been expelled for harassment.”

  “ _Well_ , you didn’t say you were _sorry_.”

  “ _Well_ , I wasn’t _going to_.”

 

  And, suddenly, they were friends. Nepeta swore she remembered her from somewhere, some chance meeting across the hall, a chemistry partner maybe, she didn’t know. But Roxy was neat; She liked dying her hair, and straightening it, and giving it this odd point that Nepeta was told required a lot of hairspray. She liked dinosaurs, and cats, and alcohol, but not all at once. She came from Rainbow Falls, with her sister, Rose, who was going to college in Seattle, and not here. Roxy told her her sister was an english major, minoring in a very specific subset of European literature that was only offered in Oregon. Nepeta didn’t ask farther.

  Roxy was quick to mention her mark, specifically the lack of one. Nepeta was told her mark faded when she was six, from a spiraling ribbon to nothing at all. She seemed unconcerned, and fairly open to suggestion, noting that it made her dating pool a wide, open sea of dead fish. Nepeta laughed, and when Roxy asked about her mark, Nepeta didn’t feel the need to hide it. Roxy said it was cute, the parallels between the sun and the moon significant, and asked who the lucky pal was. Nepeta told her, and Roxy said that Karkat was familiar, he was in a class with one of her other friends, somewhere. They didn’t push farther.

  It was later in the morning when they parted, having talked at length about obscure indie music. Roxy handing over her phone number and telling her to pester her sometime was noted by Nepeta, who figured she’d take that offer up at some point in the future, but not right this minute.

  It was Sunday morning, still, and she had a lot on her mind as she worked her way back to her dorm.

  All of it she pointedly ignored, which was not good for her collective mental or physical health.

 

  She sat, and pondered, and ate lunch, and played on her computer, and frowned whenever a thought popped up, until her phone buzzed, and she realized she had gotten a text an hour ago.

  Nepeta frantically pressed the message button when she saw who it was from.

 **Karkat** : HEY ARE WE STILL ON FOR TONIGHT?

_-Message Received at 1:43 p.m. -_

**Nepeta** : shoot!!!!!!!!!! Sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didnt see this until LITERALLY JUST NOW

 **Nepeta** : YES we are ON FOR TONIGHT

 **Nepeta** : dunno why you capitalized but

 **Karkat** : I MAKE FRIENDS WITH STUPID PEOPLE WHO CHANGE MY PHONE SETTINGS SO IT SEEMS LIKE I'M ALWAYS YELLING AT THEM.

 **Karkat** : AND I CAN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO CHANGE IT.

 **Nepeta** : oh lmao why would they do that tho

 **Karkat** : BECAUSE I'M ALWAYS YELLING AT THEM.

 **Nepeta** : oh weird!

 **Nepeta** : but yeah!!!!! I'll see you at five if thats still alright

 **Karkat** : AWESOME. I CAN'T WAIT.

 **Nepeta** : the periods say otherwise hmmm

 **Karkat** : I DONT KNOW “TEXT SPEAK”

 **Nepeta** : wait what

 **Karkat** : I DIDNT GET A PHONE UNTIL I WAS SEVENTEEN.

 **Nepeta** : oh my GOD

 **Nepeta** : see NOW i get why ur friends yell at you

 **Karkat** : WHY?

 **Nepeta** : youre so out of touch!!!!!!!!!!!!! Youre like a little internet baby

 **Nepeta** : you have an ANDROID i mean

 **Karkat** : OH DON’T START WITH ME ON THAT. EVERYBODY KNOWS THEY’RE BETTER.

 **Nepeta** : ok

 **Karkat** : I CAN FEEL THE PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVENESS SEEPING THROUGH THE SCREEN.

 **Nepeta** : i'm surprised you can see anything thru that screen

 **Karkat** : SHUT UP YOUR PHONE IS PROBABLY ON TWO PERCENT POWER JUST BECAUSE OF THIS CONVERSATION.

 **Nepeta** : mhmmm

 **Karkat** : DONT “MHMMM” ME

 **Nepeta** : i wasnt i was mhmmmmmmm not MHMMMMMMM

 **Nepeta** : i can't understand you through your yelling

 **Karkat** : DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE

 **Nepeta** : mmmmmmmmmm

 **Nepeta** : i'll see u at five :3c

 **Karkat** : DONT DO THAT

 **Karkat** : THIS ISN'T OVER NEPETA

 **Karkat** : DONT IGNORE ME

 **Nepeta** : you dont have read reciepts how could you know i'm ignoring you

 **Karkat** : OH SHUT UP

 

  Nepeta smiled at her phone for a second, turning it off and tossing it off the bed, letting it vibrate on the floor. Four -- no, three hours or so until Karkat got over here. That’d be enough time for a quick study session, right?

 

  Wrong.

  She maybe took five minutes of actual reading before throwing the books on the floor and declaring them useless, then immediately going right back to watching videos of people falling over. It was funny! Sue her!

  Her phone buzzed with an alarm that told her to get ready at half past four, and by ready, she hoped past-her thought jeans and a t-shirt were okay, because that’s what she was wearing. Green was always a good color, it matched her eyes, and the jeans were ol’ reliable; stretchy and comfortable. Throwing on shoes that weren’t dirty after all this time wasn’t hard, and she was ready. She grabbed a jacket, unplugged her phone, and waited for the knock on the door that told her her out-of-touch soulmate was out there. She browsed through facebook, looking through relatives posts to find something of her mom’s.

  About two minutes into this, she realized she had practically blacklisted her, to a point where she wouldn’t even show up on her feed. Nepeta had to deep-dive through thirteen different extensions before she was able to get herself back to the cursed website to find her mom’s page.

  The most recent post was from an hour ago, one that said, “Going to see Nepeta Leijon tonight! Three hour drive ahead of us, wish me luck! :)”

  Nepeta frowned at the relatives who commented, and narrowed her eyes at the ones that said they’d pray for the best.

  She was lost in the comment section for a minute, but luckily got knocked out of it by the knock on the door. She glanced up, shutting the laptop and shoving her phone in her pocket, grabbing her wallet off the stand and heading for the door.

  A quick intake of breath, then another knock, and she swung it wide open.

  “They’re better.”

  Karkat held up his phone in front of her, smiling a little bit as she opened her mouth, narrowing her eyes.

  “ _Don’t_ tell me you’re still hung up on that.”

  “I’m not!” Karkat told her, walking into her room when she let him, smiling, “I’m just saying that --”

  “Oh, don’t make this a _thing_!” Nepeta groaned, “I don’t want this to be our _thing_ , where we just argue about _phones_ , that’s so _lame_.”

  “I thought our thing was arguing about bad movies?”

  “It’s not much better, but god, it’ll do.”

  Karkat shot her a smile, one she returned, and he said, “Well? You ready to go bowling or what?”

  Nepeta grinned. “Yeah! We’ll bowl circles around Sollux and his date. There’s no way they’re better than us!”

  “Just don’t make any bets, alright,” Karkat told her, smiling a little, “I don’t wanna lose more than twenty dollars tonight.”

  “Wow, you’re not gonna spend all of your money on your date?” Nepeta asked, feigning astonishment, “I didn’t know I was dating a _cheapskate_.”

  “Well, now you know, so if you don’t mind, let’s _go_.”

 

  The bowling alley they went to was, thank god, halfway across town. It was decently packed for a Sunday night, and they waited outside for Sollux and his date to show up. It wasn’t surprising that, halfway through their debate about whether or not _Stars That Could Kill_ really deserved it’s Oscar, Sollux popped in with a comment about how it deserved an Emmy, not an Oscar.

  “I mean, really, it’s that simple,” Sollux said, nodding as if what he said was objectively true, which it wasn’t.

  “Um, the Emmy’s are for television series, not movies,” Nepeta told him, nodding as if what she said was objectively true, which it was.

  “Who cares? Same thing.”

  “They’re not --” Karkat stopped, and let out a long, annoyed sigh, and instead said, “Where’s your date?”

  “He’s in the car, he forgot to grab his --”

  “Hey, I’ll finish that sentence for you, I forgot to grab my old, _super_ fake tickets for this place that I got, like, last year, and will cash in _tonight_.”

  The guy that had popped up behind Sollux with a large box was almost a stark opposite of him, but, oddly, vaguely similar. He parallelled Sollux’s 3D glasses with his own pair of dark shades, and the black hair with blonde. He had a vivid red shirt on, one that looked kind of weird next to Sollux’s mustard yellow. Nepeta figured they hadn’t planned on matching, just like she and her date.

  “Karkat, Nepeta, this is my boyfriend,” Sollux told them, making little show-y hands in his direction, which his boyfriend paralleled, “ _Dave_.”

  “Hi, Dave!” Nepeta greeted, smiling at him.

  “Hello,” Dave greeted, waving at her.

  “So, are we gonna bowl, or what?” Karkat asked, and Sollux snapped.

  “Exactly that, Karkat, is what we’re gonna do.”

  “Great. So let’s do it.”

  “Fantastic idea, Karkat.”

 

  And bowl they did. They went inside, and the lady at the desk gave them little wristbands that allowed them to both bowl and use the arcade, but not at the same time. So they went straight to the bowling alley, to lane eighteen, and promptly all made fun of the weird number of catholics in lanes five through eleven. It was very funny.

  “This one’s for _Jesus_ ,” Dave said, and bowled a two.

  “This one’s for . . . Um, Abraham, that’s a guy in the Bible, right?” Karkat asked, and Nepeta nodded.

  “How do you know?” Sollux asked her.

  “I have read the Bible before,” Nepeta noted, casually, as Karkat bowled a six. “It was required reading in Bible School.”

  “You’ve been to Bible School?” Dave asked, incredulous, “Like, what do they teach there?”

  “It was crafts, mostly,” Nepeta vaguely recalled, as Sollux stepped up. “And drinking blood.”

  “Sounds demonic,” Karkat said, sitting down.

  “Oh, yeah, totally kind of weird, now that I think of it,” She responded, nodding as Sollux picked up a ball that was fourteen pounds.

  “Okay, guys, this one is for Peter Griffin, and not the biblical character, nor the copywritten one,” He shouted back, and Karkat opened his mouth.

  “That’s not a biblical character!”

  “No, no, it was,” Dave told him, pulling down his sunglasses a little. Why was he wearing those, anyway? “He was the guy who went up against the giant, and killed him with a rock.”

  “That’s David,” Karkat corrected, his eyes narrowed, “He--”

  “I didn’t do that,” Dave cut in, frowning a little, “I mean, I’ve gone up against my fair share of bullies, but I didn’t know the time I knocked down Little Timmy got written down in the ancient scripture.”

  “That’s not--”

  “Oh my god, that was _you_?” Nepeta exclaimed, playing along as Karkat took his turn to frown now, “I had _no_ idea! How’d you do it?”

  “Oh, I pushed him off the swing after he called me a doo-doo head,” Dave explained, “First grade. I hated that kid.”

  “Wow, no way!” Nepeta said, looking absolutely interested, “That’s so interesting! Why was he named Little Timmy, though? I thought he was a giant, and named Goliath.”

  “Oh, he fell down a well once,” Dave told her, nodding.

  “Oh, of course,” Nepeta responded, nodding also.

  “None of that makes sense,” Karkat said, and both of them looked at him.

  “Uh, I _think_ I know a _lot more_ about the bible than you do, Karkat,” Nepeta told him, sounding snotty, “What were you, a . . . a Baptist?”

  “Presbyterian, actually,” Karkat noted, “We did not drink blood, I think.”

  “I have never been to church in my entire life, so,” Dave said, “So I have no idea where the fuck this drinking blood thing came from, please explain.”

  “Oh, well, because we love Jesus _so much_ , we drink his blood and eat his flesh,” Nepeta explained to him, and Karkat shrugged a little as if to agree, “Then we sing about how much we love him, for eating his flesh and drinking his blood.”

  “What the _fuck_ are you --”

  “Hey, sorry to interrupt your Catholic crash course, but Nepeta, it’s your turn,” Sollux cut in, plopping down beside Karkat and across from Dave.

  “What’d you get, dude?” Dave asked him, and Sollux shrugged.

  “Uh, a flat _zero_ , actually, because I’m a stupid piece of shit.” Sollux shot a lopsided grin at him. “Gutters for life.”

  “Go on, Nepeta, you’ve got a fucking stellar start now,” Karkat told her, smiling as she stood up. “The bar is set so low.”

  “Seriously, getting so much as a one will be the shit, go on,” Sollux encouraged, and she smiled a little as she went to grab her normal ball, the one that weighed ten pounds and was a lime green color. It was only a little heavy, really, and she picked it up and swung it so she held it in front of her.

  She shouted back, “This one’s for, um, Judas!”

  She saw a catholic shoot her a glare.

  She bowled anyway.

  And the bowling ball decided to do what only one other bowling ball had ever done for her, ever.

  Which was get a strike.

  “I got a strike!” Nepeta shouted.

  “She got a strike!” Sollux exclaimed.

  “Judas is looking out for you in Hell, so it seems,” Dave noted, and Nepeta turned to look.

  “I got a strike!” She shouted, this time for confirmation.

  “You got a strike!” They all shouted back, confirming.

  “Get another one!” Karkat shouted last, and Nepeta nodded.

  “Okay!” She said, and grabbed the ball from it’s thing, and bowled again.

  And got another strike.

  “Oh my god!” She shouted, louder this time. “I got another strike!”

  “She _did-fucking-no_ t,” Sollux shouted, standing up at the table, and then looked up at the sky with a raised fist, “We were fucking _joking_ about getting another one, Judas!”

  “Why’d you look at the sky if he’s in Hell?” Dave asked.

  “Where the fuck even is Hell?” Karkat pondered, then shook his head and looked back at Nepeta, “Do it again!”

  “I plan to!” Nepeta told him, waiting for the ball to roll back out. She grabbed it once it did, giving it a soft pat. “Judas better be looking out for me.”

  “ _Judas better not_!”

  He was.

  She scored thirty points.

  “I got thirty whole points!” She shouted, turning back around and jumping once the strike happened again. Karkat cheered, standing up, and Dave clapped in earnest, while Sollux seemed thoroughly pissed about it.

  “You did it!” Karkat shouted back, and then let out a loud, “ _Oof_!” as she ran smack into him, throwing her arms around him and whooping. She immediately let go, pushing off of him and giving Dave a high-five as he smiled at her.

  “Nice work,” He told her, grinning still, “It’s an accomplishment.”

  “Yeah, how’s that for a comeback?” Nepeta exclaimed, looking at Sollux, who just shook his head.

  “Didn’t know I had to invoke Judas for a good score,” He lamented, a somber look gracing his face. He held out a hand for her to shake. “Congratulations, Leijon. You not only pushed the unpushable, you also bowled the unbowlable.”

  “Wait what --”

  “Inside joke, _thank you_ , Sollux,” She noted, nodding solemnly and shaking his hand. “It was a pleasure.”

  “Okay, Dave, you’re up.”

 

  This continued for a solid fifteen to twenty more minutes, and Nepeta, unsurprisingly, won the game with her thirty extra points over everyone else. Sollux ended with _literally_ forty-eight points. An exciting match, to be sure, made more exciting by the unknown fact that bowling three strikes apparently meant they got free dessert, as notified by the staff after the game ended.

  And so then they had cake.

  “This is _really_ good cake,” Karkat noted, halfway through swallowing the chocolate dessert, “Like, it’s actually _made_ cake. As in, from a box and not a store.”

  “Tastes like Betty Crocker,” Dave told them, pushing some of his hair out of his face, “Curse her and all her delicious pastry products.”

  “My mom makes really good cake from scratch,” Sollux said as he forked down another piece, “She says it’s therapeutic, but I think it’s just because she wants us to know how good she is at baking.”

  “My mom always got store-bought cake,” Nepeta added to the conversation, “And it always had really bad icing. I just asked for brownies after a while.”

  “Brownies are _way_ better,” Dave admonished, “They like, fucking melt in your mouth. How could anyone resist the chocolatey taste, it’s fucking astounding that anyone wants cake for their birthday.”

  “Birthday cake is a _sacred tradition_ , Dave,” Sollux noted, squinting behind the 3D glasses, “It’s best not to question it.”

  “What, is the fucking birthday police going to come on my ass?” Dave asked, “Knock down my door, seduce me with their brutality and wicked birthday policies, then tell me the most secret and protected tradition is the act of birthday intercourse? Is that what’s going to happen, Sollux?”

  “I think you’re thinking of hookers playing dress up,” Karkat told him.

  “Well, I’ve never actually met a policeman, so.” Dave threw his hands in the air. “Call our men in blue what you want, I’m going to cash in my totally valid tickets at the arcade.”

 "Oh, I’ll come with you!” Nepeta told him, smiling a little, “I wanna see what you get!”

  “We’re gonna get a bunch of fucking plastic rings is what we’re gonna get,” Dave told her, pointing and standing up. “Let’s fucking do this.”

  “Wait, before you go, you’ve _never_ met a policeman?” Karkat asked, putting up a hand to stop them “Like, never?”

  “Not even at a school assembly,” Dave told him as Nepeta stood, “I was feigning sickness those days. Let’s go, Nepeta.”

  She followed him away from the cake and towards the arcade, which was lit up with little catholic children playing air hockey and whack-a-mole, and also some teenagers crowding around a . . . a grabby-hand game. The -- The one with the hook? What was that one called, anyway?

  “Hey, Dave, what’s that game, with the hook hand, what’s that called?” Nepeta asked as they stepped up to the ticket counter. Dave looked over at it.

  “That’s the claw machine,” Dave explained, putting a cardboard box supposedly filled with tickets on the ticket counter. “Commonly found in a number of malls, arcades, and other artistic facilities.”

  “Fascinating,” Nepeta noted to him as an employee came to the counter.

  “Hey, what can I do for you?” The lady asked, giving them a wide, almost stunning white smile.

  “A lot, actually,” Dave told her, adjusting his sunglasses and grabbing the sides of the box, “See, I have a --”

  “ _Wait_ a second,” Nepeta stopped him, and he shut up, looking at her. “Do I know you?”

  “Yeah, I was ‘boutta say, one of you looked real familiar,” The girl said, lookin straight back, “You ever --”

  “Wait a minute!” Nepeta shouted. “You -- _Fairy Godmother!_ ”

  The girl gasped.

  “ _Prince Charming_!” Godmother exclaimed, her grin etched on her face, “Oh my god! It’s like, literally a fairytale now! I don’t -- I don’t know how, but still! Oh my god!”

  “How are you?” Nepeta asked, eager now and leaning forward on the counter. “I didn’t know you work here!”

  “I don’t know how you would!” Godmother responded, “And I should be asking you, how’d it work out? Did you find him?”

  “Yeah, we’re on a date right now, this is -- this is not him.” And she pointed at Dave, who waved. “He’s on a date with someone else, and we’re on a double date. That’s -- yeah. But it worked, I found him!”

  “I’m proud of you!” Godmother told her, “That’s exciting, I love when fairytales work out! Makes my heart flutter, really.”

  “But, oh my god, let me get your name --” Nepeta started, but Godmother cut in.

  “Oh, it’s Feferi! And I already know yours, Nepeta, we’re chill,” Feferi said, smiling.

  “What? How?”

  “Oh, a friend of mine, his name’s Gamzee, he works here too,” Feferi told her, “He said he’s in a chemistry class with you, he talks about you a lot.”

  “He what?” Nepeta asked, weirdly suspicious now, “I’ve . . . I’ve _never_ met a Gamzee.”

  “You haven’t?” Feferi asked, leaning up on the counter now too, as if to make this more intimate, “He said he recognized you, you’re his, uh . . . Oh, yeah, um, you’re his brother’s-soulmate’s-sister! That’s it.”

  “What?” Nepeta asked, “He’s -- He’s Kurloz’s brother?”

  “Yeah, _Kurloz_ , that’s his name!” Feferi said, smiling, “Do you know him?”

  “No.” Nepeta bit her lip. “Kurloz doesn’t -- well, he doesn’t talk, but -- he’s never talked about him before.”

  “He’s not?”

  “I knew he existed, but,” Nepeta mumbled, rubbing her arm a little, “Meulin, my sister, said Kurloz didn’t like talking about him.”

  “That’s . . . weird,” Feferi noted, squinting, “I thought . . . Well, the way it sounded, they were close. He said Kurloz mentioned you a couple times, knew what you looked like, at least.”

  “I didn’t even know his name,” Nepeta told her.

  “Weird,” Feferi responded, shaking her head, “Anyway, what’s up, what’s in the box --”

  “Awesome, let’s move away from sibling talk and to the real problem at hand --” Dave opened the box. “-- My immense amount of tickets.”

  “Oh my god!" Feferi exclaimed, pulling out tickets by the droves, “You have this many?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been here a couple of times, dude,” Dave told her, “I know my way around the machines.”

  “How many do you have?”

  “Around five, six thousand, I think,” Dave explained, “And you know, that nerf gun up there is looking real appealing.”

  “Oh my god, I’m gonna have to count this out,” Feferi said, her face dropping. “I am going to have to count this out, and waste my night, counting this out.”

  “Is it a problem?”

  “No, it means I don’t have to clean up _shit_ , let’s get started!”

 

  Almost too eagerly, Feferi started counting out, one by one, marking them by the tens with a little blue colored pencil, the amount of tickets Dave had forged. She started gossiping about anything she could think of, and when she ran out of things to think of, she tore off five of their tickets and told them to go play the dance-dance game two feet away, because she wanted to hear Katy Perry, and they weren’t playing it on the speakers at the moment.

  Teenage Dream was a really hard song to dance to, apparently, and Feferi was getting into the thousands once they came back after not only Teenage Dream, but _also_ Dark Horse, Wide Awake, Rise, Birthday, and Roulette. Nepeta started talking about flower anatomy, and Dave started talking about social psychology, and Feferi talked about marine biology, and then when that ended, Sollux and Karkat showed up, and that’s when they started talking about computer engineering and a little about film, but not too much.

  Feferi finished counting thirty minutes after that.

  “Okay, moment you’ve all been waiting for!” Feferi announced, shoving the tickets away, “The final total is seven thousand, four hundred, and twenty-three tickets!”

  “Goddamn,” Karkat noted, shaking his head, “Can’t _believe_ you brought --”

 “Nerf gun _first_ , please,” Dave told her, and Feferi sighed, standing up from her post and heading to the wall with the nerf gun, listed as two thousand tickets. It admittedly had several smaller nerf guns in the box with it, and it was a pretty big nerf gun by itself. She pulled it off the shelf and placed it onto the counter with a plop.

  “Four thousand, four hundred, twenty-three to go.”

  “Stuffed bear, the big pink one, five hundred,” Dave told her, and Feferi quickly nabbed that one, too, “That’s for you, Nepeta, for suffering with me through a Katy Perry inspired hell.”

  “Aw, thanks!” Nepeta smiled at him, taking the bear from Feferi.

  “That’s three thousand, nine hundred, twenty-three left, sir, pick your poison!”

  “Karkat, what do you want?” Dave asked, looking at him, “There’s a whopping number of shit to choose from.”

  “Uh, I’ll take the, um . . . I don’t know,” Karkat said, then pointed at an electronic. “What’s that?”

  “It’s one of those old Sega game things, the . . . _whatever_ , it’s a full set, comes with every game made on it, it’s a thousand tickets,” Feferi explained, smiling a little.

  “You can have it if you want,” Dave told him, “I don’t mind --”

  “No, fuck you, I want it,” Sollux cut in, pointing at it, “Give me the dreamcast right now, I want that shit _so bad_.”

  “Alright, mister _prissy pants_ ,” Feferi said, smiling and heading over to the cabinet it was stuck in. She unlocked it pretty quick and pulled it out of there, hauling it onto the counter. “Two thousand, nine hundred, twenty-three left.”

  Sollux took the dreamcast and hugged it to his chest as Karkat rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll take the two hundred dollar gift card for Target, I’ll buy myself a bean bag.”

  “We do have bean bags,” Feferi noted, “If you’d rather. It’s a hundred ticket difference.”

  “I’ll take the bean bag.”

  Feferi hauled up the bean bags, handing over a simple black bean bag for just five hundred tickets.

  “That leaves two thousand, four hundred, twenty-three tickets left. What else?”

  “How many rings would --”

  “I am not fucking counting any of those rings,” Feferi cut in immediately.

  Dave stopped, and rephrased, “I’ll take the laptop, the pink one.”

  “You sure? That’s a two thousand, four hundred tickets, and it’s not that great,” Feferi told him. “Kind of shitty, actually, now that I think about it.”

  “I’ll take it, it’s pink,” Dave said, and Feferi hauled it out of the case and put it on the counter.

  “Leaves you with twenty-three tickets.”

  “I’ll take twenty-three plastic rings.”

 

  They left at midnight with several nerf guns, an old-but-new dreamcast, a teddy bear, a bean bag, a laptop, and twenty-three plastic rings. It would be an astounding night if they were not mugged, which they were not on the way to their respective cars.

  “I still can’t believe you brought in seven thousand fake tickets,” Karkat told him, shaking his head with a solemn look on his face. “It’s fraud. It’s downright fraud, and you got a laptop out of it.”

  “You bet I did.” Dave closed the back door of the car. “It’s fucking _genius_ , my cousin Roxy told me about it, fucking blew my _mind_.”

  “I thought it was great!” Nepeta said, smiling, “You got so much, I got a teddy bear, he got a bean bag, it’s great.”

  “Steal from the rich, give to the poor,” Sollux noted, pounding a fist to his chest. “It’s a learned practice.”

  “It was fun,” Dave noted, “The bowling part too, I enjoyed taking second place.”

  “By five fucking points,” Karkat reminded him through gritted teeth. “Five _fucking_ points.”

  “Always said five’s my lucky number.”

  "We enjoyed ourselves!” Nepeta said, smiling again, “We should do this again, but at a different place, because if they realize we forged those tickets they’re going to kill us.”

  “I heard there’s a pizza place over in Hillsboro, it’s like, thirty minutes from here, it’s got a huge arcade, uses generic tickets,” Dave noted, “Roxy told me about that one too.”

  “Does she normally steal from arcades?”

  “Oh, all the time,” Dave said, nodding, “She’s been to this one, like, twelve times.”

  “Okay, we really should be going,” Sollux told them, “Some of us have classes in the morning, so let’s get a fucking move on.”

  “We’ll see you guys later,” Dave said, waving a little and smiling.

  “See you!” Nepeta told him starting to walk away with Karkat, who waved as they got in the car.

  “Bye,” Karkat shouted, and then they turned and didn’t acknowledge them further as they walked back to their own car.

  “That _was_ really fun,” Nepeta noted, smiling still, “I got three strikes in a row, a stuffed bear, and you got a bean bag, and we all got cake. That’s literally the definition of a perfect night.”

  Karkat laughed a little. “Yeah, it was fun,” He told her, unlocking his car. “I’m glad we went.”

  "Yeah!” Nepeta popped open the car door and moved to sit inside, strapping herself in with the seat belt. Karkat got in the driver’s seat, turning the car on and letting the radio turn on, listening to some pop music station.

  After they were both sitting, and strapped in, they headed back to campus. She talked about how sick she was of Katy Perry, having to turn the radio station to the local college radio station, RNS 85.4, _The Stadium_. It had some sad indie music going on, but that was fine. They ignored it, mostly, and talked about class, and how finals were coming up, and how they were both totally gonna flunk whatever their botany class had in store for them. Karkat made some joke about the teacher, and Nepeta’s laugh echoed in the car, and he started laughing because she was laughing, and then it finalized itself once they got five minutes from their college.

  Karkat noted the clear skies, and Nepeta smiled, saying that there wasn’t a single storm in the forecast for the next week. He took that as a good sign, apparently, and Nepeta nodded, saying she did too. She said she never liked storms, and he asked why, and she said they were too noisy. She liked it when it was quiet, and she could hear a bunch of insects yelling outside her window. Karkat laughed again, and then they were parking on campus.

  “I’ve never been up this late on campus, on a Sunday night,” Karkat told her, walking on the path to the Plathe building. “It’s so quiet.”

  “Yeah,” Nepeta noted, a soft laugh on her lips, “It gets pretty quiet here.”

  “Have you been out this late?”

  “A few times.” He looked at her as if he wanted an explanation. “I study with my friend sometimes, on Sundays. I usually walk back to my building with him.”

  “That’s nice,” Karkat said, and Nepeta nodded.

  “It is.”

  They walked for a minute more.

  “The stars are really clear tonight,” Karkat said.

  “We’re not that far from the country, so,” Nepeta noted, “Maybe that’s why there’s so many.”

  “Star-gazing sounds fun, y’know,” He told her, smiling a little, “Maybe we could do it sometime.”

  Nepeta laughed, a little. “Yeah, maybe.”

  A pause.

  “You look beautiful in the moonlight.”

  Nepeta almost stopped.

  She decided not to, when he didn’t.

  And he wasn’t looking at her, not anymore.

  “You’re not too bad yourself,” Nepeta pointed out, twisting a hand into her hair and watching the ground to make sure it wouldn’t go away.

  She saw his shoes stop moving, so she stopped moving hers a second later, turning to face him.

  He looked hassled.

  She probably didn’t look much different.

  “How did we get here?” He asked, kind of quietly, as if there were other people around. There weren’t. “This all feels so . . . so _weird_.”

  “Kinda,” She began, not quite looking at his eyes, “Is . . . Is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” He said.

  A pause.

  “Maybe it’s because we don’t know what we’re doing.”

  “Maybe.”

  They fell quiet again.

  “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah.” He paused. “More than okay.”

  She smiled a little, her face probably turning a different color as she looked to the side.

  “Do you think --”

  “Oh, just shut up.”

  And then she was kissing him.

  And, it took a moment, but he was kissing back.

  And maybe it was weird, and maybe it was kind of stupid, and maybe it was generic or cliche, but _it felt good, okay_. It felt nice, to be kissing someone at one in the morning, and there weren’t any sparks or big, important feelings, they were just _kissing_. She puts her hands on his face, and pulled him a little closer, but then they let go. And she felt good. And she hoped he did too.

  And she let out a breath.

  “And now it’s more than just okay,” She muttered, her shoulders relaxing. He didn’t say anything, then did.

  “Yeah, it -- it is.”

  She looked up at him, and he looked down at her, and they stared at each other for a second.

  She smiled a little, and he grinned, and she started to laugh, and he started to laugh with her.

  And it was nice.

  And it felt _nice_.

  “That was _so_ cliche!” Nepeta snickered, her face caught in a perpetual smile.

  “It was!” Karkat agreed, still laughing with her. She grabbed his hand, pulling him forward now.

  “God, _come o_ n, let’s get back to my dorm before we start getting emotional or -- or talking about some _stupid thing_ , let’s go,” She told him, a small, giddy feeling fluttering in her chest. He laughed again.

  “Whatever you say.”

  And then they were moving again, holding hands, back to her dorm.

  "I’m glad we got to spend the night together,” Nepeta said a minute later. “I -- It really was fun to, to hang out, like, on a date.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard those are fun, but,” Karkat answered, “Didn’t really understand the appeal until now, I guess. Fucking -- I get it _now_ , though!”

  Nepeta laughed. “Yeah, I just can’t even, like, think straight, I guess. I’m gonna be caught up in this weird mood all day tomorrow, I think.”

  “Yeah,” Karkat said, smiling, and smiling at her, “I can’t imagine what I’ll --”

  He stopped suddenly, and caused her to stop.

  “What?”

  “I --” Karkat squinted, and Nepeta turned to look ahead of them. She hadn’t been looking at the end of the path, rather at the person she was walking down it with.

  She remembered why.

  “Oh, no,” She whispered, to herself.

  Karkat heard.

  He narrowed his eyes and looked at her.

  “What?”

  “I --” She swallowed.

  They were at the end of the path, the steps to the Plathe building just a quick stroll across a bit of campus green, not twenty seconds away. They were within view.

  Her mom sat there on the steps, and with him.

  “ _Nepeta_ , what --”

  “That’s my mom.”

  He stopped.

  He looked back at the steps.

  Her mom had stood up, and he was standing up too.

  “That’s -- _Nepeta_ \--”

  “Of _course_ she brought him.”

  “You --” Karkat was confused, obviously, and she looked at him. "You _know_ \--"

  “What’s --”

  “Nepeta, that’s my _dad_!”

  And he pointed, straight at him.

  Nepeta stared at him, then back at Karkat.

  “Karkat, you -- he --”

  She paused, then something vicious lit inside of her.

  “Karkat, that’s my _therapist_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c i said we'd be updatin slow Did I Not
> 
> also //throws in a rarepair, as I Always End Up Doing


	4. Chapter 4

He remembered a time when things weren’t okay.

His mom hated the lot of them; Karkat was fairly certain she wasn’t fond of children, even her own. The emotion was requited and his brother admitted to feeling absolutely worthless when she berated them for, _god forbid_ , swimming in the backyard pool at night without her knowing. He remembered getting yelled at for an hour when his dad was away on a business trip. He also remembered locking himself in his room and refusing to eat for the two days it took for him to get back.

Karkat hated his mother for many reasons; One of the easier explanations would be that she wasn’t his father’s soulmate. His mark had long faded, and hers had disappeared. Karkat believed they got together for that reason only; They had no one else. He hated that. He supposed it wasn’t her fault. He liked to believe it was.

She left his father seven years ago. Disappeared alongside some rich local, taking half of his father’s bank account with her. Nobody knew where they went, and his life got that much harder. Kankri was already wasting his time with a philosophy degree, so he stayed where they lived while Karkat and his father left for somewhere cheaper. Karkat supposed his father had their best interests in mind, but he picked a real _shitty_ place to live.

Karkat’s mark stayed with him, and every so often he noticed his dad staring at it. He wondered if he was jealous, jealous of the things he’d never got the chance to experience. But then his dad would smile, and drink from his cup of coffee, and tell him to turn on the morning news. His mother hated the morning news. _Karkat_ hated the morning news. But he turned it on.

He wondered if Nepeta liked the morning news.

She didn’t seem like a morning person.

 

They had rolled down their sleeves.

 _God_ , this was going to be so _fucking awkward_.

Nepeta’s . . . _mom_. She was, uh, very imposing. Tough looking. Kind of like she would beat him up if she found out about the whole mark thing. He clutched the arm housing his mark, just in case the sleeve decided to disobey all rules of physics and roll upwards, as if to say, “ _Here I am! Your worst nightmare! Take a fucking look at the piece of shit your daughter got matched with!_ ”

Nepeta had crossed her arms.

Was she nervous? No, no. She didn’t seem like the type to get nervous. At least, not -- not the real nervous, where you start shaking and crying and can’t focus on anything but the ground beneath you and how close it can get in a matter of seconds. No, she didn’t get nervous like that. Right? Right. He was going to pretend he was right.

“What . . . What do you --”

“She promised she wouldn’t bring him, I can’t believe --” Nepeta muttered to herself, not even listening to whatever Karkat had tried to say. He figured what he was saying wasn’t important anyway.

Her mom was standing at the steps of the Plathe building, his dad sitting down and smoking beside her. Maybe he hadn’t seen him yet. Hopefully he hadn’t seen him yet.

“ _Nepeta_?” Her mother yelled across the small field that separated them. “Is that _you_?”

Nepeta swallowed. “Yeah.” She didn’t even shout.

“ _What_?”

“Yeah!” Nepeta decided, suddenly, to yell, and then to start stomping across the green. “Yeah, it’s _me_ , mom!”

Karkat considered leaving immediately, then figured that’d be the douchiest move anyone could pull in the history of the universe, and followed her at a considerable distance away.

“Nepeta, it’s good to --”

“What’s he doing here?”

Nepeta had stopped right in front of her, and he could just feel the frown on her face. Her mother probably frowned, too, but he couldn't make out her expressions this far away.

“I told you, you need --”

“ _What_? Another _session_? Mom, that’s the absolute _last_ thing I could need right now --”

“You’ve been avoiding my calls for the last few weeks, and you think I’m not going to be a little worried about that?”

“I’m an _adult_ , mom! You can’t force me to talk to --”

“You’re being childish, there’s _no_ reason to --”

“-- As if I need his help! He hasn’t done anything --”

“ -- _Just_ because you can’t see that this is _helping_ you with your _problem_ \--”

“-- Like I’d ever talk to him after he tried to --”

“I would like to make the defense that,” His dad started to say as Karkat slowly, steadily, _slowly_ approached the situation, “I only asked about your father so I could get a better insight towards your --”

“ _Don’t_ talk to me!”

Nepeta’s head snapped towards his, and his father didn’t reel back like Karkat did. He just sat there, calm and level headed as ever. He could understand why Nepeta didn’t like that about him.

“ _Nepeta_!” Her mother shouted, forcing the attention back to her, “ _Apologize_ to Dr. Vantas!”

“He’s heard _worse_ , mom!”

“She’s right, yeah.”

Nepeta shot another glare his way, and his father nodded his head, looking away from her. Her mom still looked furious, though, and Karkat didn’t know if he wanted to find himself in the light of the streetlamps lining the sidewalk.

“Nepeta, I can’t _believe_ this, you are so _selfish_! You can’t take a _moment_ of your time to try and fix what’s wrong --”

“And what _is_ wrong, _mom_?” Nepeta snapped, jabbing a finger into her mom’s chest. “That dad’s  _dead_? That _you’re_ a trainwreck? That I can’t _handle_ all my college work? Oh, I’m _sure_ a two-hour therapy session is gonna help all that!”

“Nepeta, you’re not listening --”

“And I don’t plan to _start_!”

Her mom paused, and Karkat figured hey, better late than never, and stepped into the light. They probably had seen him before, but now that he was illuminated in yellow tones, his facial features started to show. It was almost five seconds before his dad said something, squinting a little to make him out.

“Karkat? That you?” He shouted a little, and Karkat shifted on his feet.

“Sure is, dad,” Karkat responded, and his father started to stand up. Nepeta’s mom looked over.

“Nepeta, who’s --”

“My friend --” Oddly, Karkat felt a sudden twinge of neglect. “-- _Karkat_. Apparently he’s that guy’s _son_.”

“He has a _name_ , you realize --”

“Oh, I _sure do_ , mom.”

He could see her mother squint at her then, but she turned towards him as his dad came closer.

“It’s nice to meet you,” She greeted, smiling a little and held out a hand, “Sorry for the, um, _circumstances_.”

“ ‘S fine,” He lied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, getting a bout of euphoria from the little smile Nepeta gave him behind her mother’s back. His dad came by and clamped a hand on his shoulder as her mother pulled the neglected hand away.

“How’s it going, kiddo?” He asked, smiling, “I heard you’ve been acing botany?”

“Sure have, dad,” Karkat said, “Nepeta’s in the class with me. We hang out.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” His dad said, nodding and patting his shoulder a little too hard, “Always nice to have a few friends in class.”

“Mom, I’m not talking to _him_ , and I’m not talkin to _you_ , and I’ve had a _long night_ , so I’m going to _bed_ ,” Nepeta stated as if it were fact, staring her mom down and standing her ground, her hands curled into fists. Her mother opened her mouth, and she added, “I’ll call campus police if you don’t _leave me alone_.”

His dad’s eyes widened a little bit, and Karkat felt incredibly awkward. His dad spoke up.

“Nepeta, maybe we can talk this over --”

“I am _tired_ ,” She snapped on the spot, her head swerving to meet his with such a glare that Karkat nearly reeled backwards, yet his dad still stood as resolute as ever, “I am _not_ going to talk to anybody, and if that’s a _problem_ , feel free to call me and make an appointment, _Silas_.”

Karkat watched her for a second, and her mom’s face grew red.

“Do _not_ talk to him like --”

“Karkat, let’s go,” Nepeta interrupted and threw her hand in his direction, almost as if she wanted him to walk forward and take it. He swallowed, and didn’t.

Their parents stared.

“Karkat, maybe you could --” His dad started to reason, but Nepeta stopped him.

“Let’s _go_ ,” She said, and the way she clearly enunciated her words meant she wasn’t going to say them again. Karkat’s lungs felt tight and his hands fidgeting, spine curving to obey and walk towards her, and take her hand. Her mom stared at them.

“Nepeta, please, I’m not --”

Nepeta didn’t waste her time in climbing the stairs of the Plathe building and yanking Karkat right there along with her, ignoring the now desperate shouts of her mother. He wondered briefly if she might follow them, and realized that his dad would probably stop her.

 

They didn’t talk at all when they reached her room. He didn’t say anything as she put down her bag, or plugged in her phone; He sort of just stood in the doorway, watching her. It felt bad, and uncomfortable, but what was he supposed to do? Comfort her about the shit bothering her, when he had no idea what it was? Tell her that this didn’t change things at all, when it _clearly_ did? Sit down next to her and tell her that everything was okay, when everything clearly _wasn’t_ , and there was no way to define the word ‘ _everything_ ’?

So he stood.

Nepeta didn’t talk to him; Would she? Would she yell at him about whatever was bothering her? Would she give him a look, one that said to just leave and forget about it? And what was _it_? Would it be the confrontation? Or the . . . the marks? Would it be her, or this night, or how they kissed and things sort of felt like all this was entirely too simple and they were just blowing things out of proportion? What was he supposed to think when she opened her mouth? Or was he supposed to do that first?

Fuck, he was overthinking this.

But was that really a bad thing, right now?

He didn’t wait long to have all his current anxieties addressed, for the moment she unlaced her shoes she decided to talk to him.

“This sucks.”

Karkat breathed, not in relief or apprehension. He just breathed, and waited.

She frowned, throwing off her shoes.

“Yeah,” He said, after a silence had occurred. It felt awkward to him. He shifted on his feet.

“I’m sorry.”

A pause.

“You’re fine.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s okay.”

“ _It’s_ not.”

Nepeta turned to look at him now, sitting up on her bed. She was right; she didn’t look fine, or like she was _going_ to be fine. And it wasn’t okay, it really _wasn’t_.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She didn’t.

“I don’t.”

“That’s --”

“But if you want me to.”

And then she was staring at him again, and she was scratching her wrist. The -- the one with the mark on it. He supposed he could comment on the humor of how they both instinctively rolled their sleeves down the moment they saw their parents, but he also supposed that the joke might be better for a comedy show, and not a college dorm with half-ruined vibes. Whatever the hell those were.

“Sure, if . . . I mean, if you’re okay with that,” Karkat posed, moving forward out of the door frame and into the room. He closed the door. “I don’t wanna ruin your vibes in here.”

“The vibes are already ruined,” Nepeta pouted, frowning still. She paused in thought. “. . . Maybe I never actually cared about them at all.”

Karkat squinted in confusion. “Your pare --”

“The vibes.”

“Oh.” Karkat shoved his hands into his pockets and felt stupid. “Yeah, that’s -- yeah.”

“It’s just --” Nepeta paused again, and let out a sigh, “Just, the _vibes_ , right? Those are important to me!”

“Right.”

“At least, they _were_.”

“Okay.”

“And now --”

“Now they’re . . . _ruined_?” Karkat posed, and her frown deepened.

“No,” She said, “They’re just, just _gone_ , I guess.”

“Huh.” Karkat wondered, briefly, if she was trying to metaphor her way into talking about her parents, and figured she was not. Because that was fucking stupid. “So, you -- you feel bad, because the vibes are gone?”

“I _made_ the vibes go away,” Nepeta said, almost pouting, “And they’re not gonna come back. Not while I’m here, anyway.”

“Are you actually this messed up about the vibes being --”

“ _No_!” Nepeta cut over him and dragged a hand through her hair, “Not -- Well, I mean -- Yeah, _sure_ , I -- I guess I am! _God_ , this is so _stupid_!”

“The vibes --”

“ _No_!”

Nepeta threw a pillow at him, but it didn’t feel like a particularly angry throw, more of a _slightly-anxious-yet-pissed-off-but-not-at-you_ throw. He caught the pillow, and let it hang in front of him. Nepeta didn’t seem to care what he did with it.

“Just -- _All of this_!” She shouted, and he vaguely remembered something about the Plathe building being soundproof. “Us! _You_! Equius! Vriska! The guy with the dumb _scourgefur_ post! Botany! _Vriska_!” Karkat didn’t know who Vriska was, but she seemed important. “I’m just -- So _sick_ of _dealing_ with all of this dumb stuff! I don’t even wanna _be here_!”

Karkat chose one of many, many questions that had just arisen. Arose? Arised. “You -- Who’s, um, Vriska?”

“Mutual friend,” Nepeta grumbled, “I _think_.”

“You _think_?”

“I _think_.”

Karkat nodded a little, and stepped closer, still holding that pillow.

“And . . . Us?”

“No offense, Karkat, but --” Nepeta frowned deeper. “-- I don’t think we know what _us_ is.”

He made a small noise of agreement; She was, after all, right. He had no fucking clue what any of this was. At all. He was surprised they had so much as managed a single date thus far, that was a feat he had no idea they could accomplish. Not -- Not counting that one time, before botany class, because -- because that didn’t count. He thinks.

“You don’t wanna be here?” Karkat asked, and that seemed to be the question of the night, because she made a much bigger reaction to that one than she had to the other two.

“ _No_!” She shouted, and immediately fell backwards on her bed. “I _don’t_ wanna be here! I _never_ wanted to go to college! I chose to study _biology_! Who in the world willingly studies _biology_?!”

“Uh, biologists --”

“Yeah, and I’m obviously _not that_!” She chucked her hands to her face, practically slapping herself. “The counselor asked what I wanted to major and I _panicked_! So here I am! I mean I’m good at it but like still --”

“So, wait, you --” Karkat took a moment to actually think about what he was saying, before he said it. “So, why -- why don’t -- _Why_ are you here?”

“Why am I --”

“You said you didn’t want to go to college, so why are --”

“Oh,” Nepeta took her hands off her face, “I just -- My mom and my sister made a big stink out of it when I was, like, eleven, so. They sort of assumed I just -- wanted to go, and didn’t ask.”

“Why didn’t you tell them no?”

“You literally just met my mom, I’ve told her no like, seventy times on the therapist thing, yet here we are.” Nepeta’s hands folded out on the bed. “I don’t think anyone in my family takes no for an answer.”

“Except you --”

“ _Especially_ me, I _hate_ being told no,” She interrupted, waving a hand, “My dad told me I couldn’t sleep over at my friend’s house in second grade, I threw a _very_ large tantrum. I’m still not over that.”

“Why’d he say no?” Karkat asked her, and decided this would be a good time to sit on the bed next to her. He did so, and kept the pillow in his lap.

“He thought she was a bad influence,” Nepeta noted, staring up at the ceiling. “She ended up finding her soulmate in middle school and getting pregnant in eleventh grade. Her soulmate broke up with her then.”

“Why would --”

“It was _not_ his baby.”

“ _Oh_.” Karkat paused. “Oh, okay.”

They both paused. Neither of them moved.

“ . . . I’m glad we found each other in college,” Nepeta said in the silence, “I don’t wanna think about all the soulmate drama that happened in my high school.”

“I used to live in a small town, I never had that sort of stuff,” Karkat told her.

“Where’d you live?”

“Northern Texas,” He said, “Baylor county.”

“I don’t even know where that is,” Nepeta said, “Must be real tiny.”

“ _Most_ people don’t know where that is,” Karkat told her, “That’s why we moved. It’s so fucking small.”

“I grew up on the west coast, I attended the closest high school we had, which was also the biggest. And thirty minutes away. So, y’know.”

“Did you, uh, like it there?”

“Not really,” She said, pursing her lips, “Some kid got stabbed while I was there, I begged to be homeschooled sophomore year. It didn’t work, and then I shipped out here. Easy enough.”

“Did you have any friends there?” Karkat asked, “Like, friends you left behind?”

“Yeah, a couple. There was Jade,” Nepeta noted, then paused. “I miss Jade.”

“She sounds nice.”

“What about you?” She asked, glancing over at him, “You leave anyone behind in Texas?”

“Just one,” He told her, “My brother. He’s off at college.”

“You miss him?”

“No.”

Nepeta paused at that, and didn’t say anything for a long moment. He didn’t either, and didn’t think, too. He just sat there, pseudo-watching her, like some sort of idiot. Which he was, no denying that at this point. But . . . He didn’t know. He just watched her, and she watched the ceiling, as if waiting for, or willing, it to fall.

It didn’t.

The Plathe building was built really well, he remembered.

“ . . . Your mom said you had a problem?” Karkat said into the silence, and Nepeta didn’t move.

“Yeah,” She said without a tone, “What of it?”

“What _is_ it?” He asked.

“My problem?” Nepeta clarified, and he nodded. She let out a sigh, saying, “My dad’s dead and my mom wants to talk about it all the time. My therapist -- your, um, _dad_ , that’s still weird -- he wants to talk about it all the time. My sister doesn’t talk at all. I’m fine, great even, on the dad subject. Mom doesn’t think so.”

“Why doesn’t she think so?” Karkat asked her, interested now. As if he wasn’t before.

“I . . . “ Nepeta paused, breathing, “ . . . I, uh, did some. Some bad stuff, in middle school. And -- And high-school.”

“Like what --”

“I stabbed a kid.”

Karkat paused for a long moment after Nepeta cut over him.

“Oh,” He said, “Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah,” Nepeta said, “She, um, didn’t. Didn’t deserve the, the stabbing. But I, um, got into some fights in middle school too. And Equius, he’s -- he’s my friend, he, um, he was the only kid who would hang out with me, after that. The stabbing, I mean. Jade did too, but her granddad didn’t like me, so we didn’t hang out too often.”

Karkat nodded and didn’t say anything for a moment.

She continued.

“I got put on some antipsychotic drugs. Like, really heavy ones,” She told him, “And then I went and saw a therapist for a while, but she didn’t work out, so my mom found your dad, and we video-chatted a little. He was okay, until he asked about my dad, so.”

“What, um, did he say?” Karkat asked, suddenly aware of when his dad would go to his office and shut the door, alone, “Because, trust me, he’s said some pretty dumb stuff.”

“He just asked about him, and assumed I stabbed the kid because she said something about my dad, which she _didn’t_ ,” Nepeta enunciated that last word very clearly, “She was trying to be my friend and I . . . maybe blew it.”

“Big time,” Karkat added.

“Yeah,” Nepeta said, “ _Big time._ I just . . . got angry with her, and whatever. I dunno, I don’t remember much of it. I think she said she knew my sister?”

“So you stabbed her?”

“No! She just . . . “ Nepeta looked for the words.

“Ran into your knife,” Karkat said, smiling a little, “Ran into your knife nineteen --”

“I get what you’re trying to do here,” Nepeta said, pointing at him and sitting up a little bit, “And it’s funny, so _knock it off_! We’re being _serious_ , and -- and _introspective_.”

“Sorry,” Karkat said, not sorry at all, “But it is funny, because the night you came into my dorm I thought you were gonna kill me.”

“You _did_?” Nepeta asked, sitting up fully now, “I wasn’t! I _didn’t_!”

“No _shit_ ,” Karkat brushed off, “I’m not festering any wounds right now, and I only thought that because my paranoid ass had built it up over the week. I didn’t go to class at all, I locked myself in my room because I thought you were coming to murder me.”

“What, why would --” Nepeta stared at him, then shook her head. “--We’re getting off-topic, I stabbed someone in high school, my mom thinks I still need a therapist, and I want one! Just not your dad, no offense.”

“Hey, that’s not a problem,” Karkat said, “My dad’s really calm about everything, it sucks when you get mad at him and he just doesn’t react. Fucks with your head.”

“Yeah, I yelled at him on numerous occasions,” Nepeta noted, “I, um, he’s just not for me.”

“He’s not for me, either,” He sighed, “Besides, I --”

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Take it,” Nepeta told him, grabbing her own phone, “Somebody buzzed me twenty minutes ago, I can see what’s up.”

Karkat nodded a little and reached into his front pocket, pulling out the the phone Nepeta had very clearly stated was lame, but without using the actual words. He was going to get her back for that. He was going to make it a thing.

 

Message from “DAD” sent at 11:53 p.m.

DAD: Hey

You: WHAT

DAD: Do you want anything from waffle house

DAD: Her mom and I are there

DAD: Did you know there’s a waffle house scale the government uses to track emergencies

You: YES I KNOW THAT

You: AND NO I’M GOOD. I DON’T LIKE WAFFLE HOUSE. BREAKFAST IS GROSS AT ALL TIMES OF THE DAY.

DAD: :(

DAD: You make your father sad

DAD: How can my own son hate breakfast food

You: WHEN MY FATHER MAKES BLUEBERRY PANCAKES EVERY TIME I TELL HIM I HATE BLUEBERRY PANCAKES, IT SORT OF HAPPENS.

You: WHY WOULD YOU EVEN GO TO WAFFLE HOUSE? IT’S ALMOST MIDNIGHT.

DAD: Because her mother likes waffle house and so do I

DAD: We both only go to waffle house when we’re unhappy

DAD: That happens to be tonight

DAD: Because Nepeta is making her mother unhappy and you’re making me unhappy :(

DAD: Because you don’t like breakfast food

You: DAD.

DAD: And so I’m reminded every time I walk into a waffle house

You: DAD.

DAD: That my son hates breakfast food

DAD: And that’s why I’m so sad karkat :(

DAD: You make me so sad :( :( :(

DAD: See I used more sad faces to illustrate that point

You: YEAH OKAY I GOT THAT.

You: WHILE WE’RE ON THE SUBJECT NEPETA DOESN’T LIKE YOU.

DAD: We weren’t on that subject but yes I know

DAD: I was hoping her mother could see that too but unfortunately she did not and is telling me this as I text you underneath the table

DAD: I think she’s taking it personally, because she likes me quite a lot

You: UGH DAD GROSS PLEASE DON’T

DAD: Don’t what

DAD: Oh

DAD: Oh no she doesn’t like me that way

DAD: She’s very insecure I don’t like that in women

You: GROSS PLEASE DON’T TELL ME THIS STUFF

You: JUST DON’T START FALLING IN LOVE WITH HER OKAY

You: BECAUSE THAT’D MAKE EVERYTHING SO MUCH WORSE AND SO MUCH MORE WEIRD FOR EVERYONE.

DAD: Why would that make things weird

DAD: I mean from Nepeta’s perspective yes that’d be weird and I agree but also why would it make things weird for you

DAD: I mean it’s not like I cou

DAD: Oh

You: WHAT

DAD: Ohhhhhhhhh

DAD: Ohhhhhhhhhohohohohohoho :)

DAD: Sooooooooo

You: DAD I’M GIVING YOU THREE SECONDS TO SHUT UP

DAD: Son it’s seventy-nine degrees outside why were you wearing a jacket

You: BECAUSE I HATE YOU

DAD: Granted

DAD: But was there another reason

DAD: A

You: DAD I’M COMING TO WAFFLE HOUSE TO KILL YOU

DAD: A GIRL reason

DAD: Karkat did I miss an important clue where are you right now

You: SHUT UP

DAD: Are you with Nepeta right now

DAD: Karkat this is very funny to me please tell me she’s got your mark

DAD: I’m laughing and her mother is very confused please tell me this is true

DAD: Karkat

DAD: Karkat answer

DAD: Karkat please

You: SHUT UP

You: SHE DOES

DAD: PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

DAD: REALLY

DAD: THIS IS VERY FUNNY

You: SHUT UP IT'S NOT

You: DON’T TELL HER MOM

DAD: I WON’T LOL

DAD: THIS IS GREAT

DAD: IT’S LIKE ONE OF YOUR DUMB MOVIES

You: THEY'RE NOT DUMB AND THIS ISN’T FUNNY THIS IS A VERY COMPLICATED SITUATION

You: I'M IGNORING YOU NOW

DAD: Haha okay

DAD: I’ll call you in the morning

 

Karkat frowned and turned his head, looking at Nepeta, who looked at him. She had been staring for quite a while now, and she looked a little startled.

“You had a weird, angry face,” Nepeta told him, “Freaked me out.”

“My dad was texting me,” Karkat said through gritted teeth, “Your mom and him are at waffle house.”

“Oh, gross,” Nepeta said.

“See! I hate it too!” Karkat exclaimed.

“Oh, no, I was talking about them going to waffle house _together_ , not _waffle house_ ,” Nepeta told him, “Waffle house is really good food.”

“Oh my god,” Karkat said, “We’re breaking up.”

“Over waffle house, _dude_ , come on, it’s good --”

“It’s gross, forever, and I’m leaving,” Karkat told her, “I’m leaving, for Alaska.”

“Alaska, what’s in Alaska?” Nepeta asked, “I mean, like, there’s a lot of stuff, but.”

“There are no waffle houses, I checked, _zero_ waffle houses,” Karkat said, “Fucking paradise. Heaven on Earth.”

“Ugh, _whatever_ ,” Nepeta groaned, but she was smiling now, “Screw off to your waffle-house-less heaven, I’ll be in waffle house _hell_. Way cooler.”

“Hell is historically hot,” He noted.

“Gotta keep the frozen waffles cold somehow,” She said.

They looked at each other, and squinted, then Karkat snorted and Nepeta giggled just a little, enough to break the serious gloom they had going on in the room.

“I think the vibes are back,” Nepeta told him, smiling still, “At least, feels like they are.”

“Oh, really?” Karkat played into it, “What do they feel like?”

“Super cozy.” Nepeta nodded. “Like a blanket. A warm blanket.”

“You have been sitting there for quite a while now,” He told her, pointing at her comforter, “Maybe it’s just your actual, real life blanket.”

“Don’t diss my vibes like that,” Nepeta reprimanded, “They’ll leave again, they just came back. I can’t have them leave, they only came back because you’re here.”

“Oh, they came back for me?” Karkat asked her, smiling a little, “Why’d they go and do that, pray tell.”

“I could be sappy and tell you it’s because you’re so _nice_ and let me talk about my _problems_ ,” Nepeta said, and grinned, “But it’s probably because you brought an anti-waffle house ideology in here.”

“How does that make sense?”

“It's a _feeling_ , Karkat, it doesn’t have to make _sense_.”

He thought on that for a moment, and found twenty different problems with the sentence. He didn’t mention them, though.

“Okay, great,” He said, “I got your vibes back for you, you’re welcome --”

“Yes, thank you.”

“-- But I should go, it’s late, and I have class tomorrow afternoon.” He stood up. “So --”

“ _What_!” Nepeta interrupted, out of nowhere, and made him nearly have a heart attack, which she did not notice, “You can’t _leave_! You brought the vibes back, they’re not gonna stay if you’re not here! They’ll leave if you don’t keep your anti-waffle house stance in this room!”

“Their abscond will only be delayed, Nepeta.” Karkat rolled his eyes a little. “And I _really_ should --”

“Karkat, I don’t know how you totally avoided my excuse to get you to stay the night, but, you did, and I’m very impressed,” Nepeta deadpanned. “So instead I’ll just say it, outright, that you should stay the night.”

Karkat paused for a second, still standing.

“Like . . . _here_?” Karkat pointed at the ground.

“Preferably on the bed, but, here --” Nepeta used her arms to gesture to the room. “-- In the _room_ , yes.”

“And, you just --”

“Like a sleepover,” She noted, “Or a slumber party, or like one of those horror movies where someone stays the night because the other person is scared demons are coming to kill them. Whatever suits your fancy.”

“But --”

“Please just say yes,” Nepeta groaned, putting a hand to her forehead, “I don’t really want to be here by myself. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Oh,” Karkat said, and paused a second. “I mean, if -- if you _want_.”

“I _do_ want,” She said, “So. If -- If that’s okay --”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, I --” He nodded a little bit more, “-- _Sure_ , I just -- I’m not in comfortable clothes, for the whole --”

“I won’t change in solidarity,” Nepeta told him, smiling a little now, “Just take off your shoes, though, I’ll turn off the light.”

Karkat nodded and did so, leaning down and untying his shoelaces before leaving the shoes at the bottom of the bed. Nepeta got up and flicked the light switch, leaving a small lamp beside her bed on. He scooted up on the bed, and felt a little awkward before she sat down.

“You can sleep down there if you want,” Nepeta told him, smiling still, “I sleep with twenty pillows, I’m kind of possessive, but you can have at _least_ one.”

Karkat laughed a little, saying, “Okay,” and moved up on the bed, grabbing the pillow she threw at him from the other side and tucking it underneath where his head would lay. Nepeta chucked a thinner, fluffier blanket than the comforter at him, too.

“You comfy?” She asked, pulling the comforter up and snuggling up underneath it. The spot where her feet laid was literally at his waist, while his were right near her neck, which was kind of funny to him. He pulled the blanket over him.

“As comfy sleeping in jeans as I possibly fucking could be,” He told her, and Nepeta gave him a wide grin.

“Lights out, then,” She noted, and reached over to the lamp beside her bed. He just now noticed that it had a cat painted on it. That was super fucking cool, and also, he started to realize she had a bunch of cat shit in her room. There was a white stuffed cat near her head, and also a cat clock. Her phone had cat ears, and there was a rug with a cat face on it on her floor. All of that hit him in the seconds before the light clicked off, and they were plunged into semi-darkness. He wondered if she had an actual cat.

“Do you have a cat in here?” Karkat asked, in the dark. He could see Nepeta lift her head to look at him.

“No?” She said.

“Just wondering. There’s a bunch of cat shit in your room.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s leftovers from the middle school cat phase.”

“Before you stabbed the kid?”

“Yeah, that was before I had my whole stabbing kids phase. I really liked warrior cats.”

“I fucking hated warrior cats.”

“It was weird hierarchy stuff.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be sleeping?”

“This is _just_ like a sleepover, because yeah, we _are_ , but we’re _not_.”

“I’d like to do that.”

Nepeta threw another pillow at him.

“ _That’s_ how I feel. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

 

Karkat left early that morning, accompanied by the sounds of Nepeta grumbling in her sleep about how he was totally lame and should just sleep in until noon. Which, by the way, was something he did not do. He had a very rigorous sleep schedule, one festered from years of hearing Kankri reciting random religious text in the bathroom mirror at six in the morning. He just sort of went with it, at that point, and realized he’d never get the normal, teenager sleep schedule back from the tomb it had escaped from.

He did make sure nobody else was in the hall when he left, just to save the people (him and Nepeta) involved from any odd gossip or heated debates about the stupid shit that they had done last night. Karkat figured, if there was to be any gossip, that it would center more around the possibility of whether or not they had, y’know, _fucked_ , and not the fact that he had placed himself beside Nepeta and away from their parents on the universal chessboard that his life was turning into.

Which was another thing; He didn’t realize his life was really this stupid until just now, apparently, because he was starting to use all the dumb phrases and metaphors Kankri used to use when he started philosophy classes. Karkat mentally slammed his head into a wall, and physically just accidentally banged into it as he turned a corner, as he started to succumb to the fact that his brother was actually right, every once in a while, and that the universal chessboard of life was getting worse every minute he spent on it.

Even with all the thoughts of chess revolving around his head, despite the fact that he had no fucking idea how to even play chess, he made his way downstairs via the elevator that worked so well in the Plathe building, and so badly in the Porter building. The stairs in his dorm killed his legs well past freshman year, but thanks to them, the amount of lower body strength he had was now comparable to maybe a dog, or a big fish. God bless.

The campus green was littered with dew and other gross morning stuff, so when he got into the Porter building and saw the stoners passed out on the couch in the main entrance, he was more concerned with the fact that the bottom of his jeans were wet and gross than the fact that other people used that couch, too, and sat there, and now they’d have to sit in the stoner residue, which was admittedly more wet and gross than the bottom of his jeans. He sucked it up, though, and went to the stairwell door, heading upstairs and checking in theopen  door of the second floor.

“-- Okay well you tell your _girlfriend_ that your _sister_ wants to see you!” Someone shouted from behind the door in front of the door to the stairs, the one that he was peeking through. “Because I _love_ and _cherish_ you! And also because I haven’t seen you in like two months you _fucking twat_ \--”

Karkat shut the door and headed, once more, upstairs.

His room was up on the fourth floor, which was scary, because there were two main fire exits that never got checked for fire safety up there. One of them was the stairwell he was heading up right now, and the other was the stairwell on the other end of the building. Both were usable, to a point, until someone had pushed a table in front of the one he was heading up to now, and thus stopped anyone from entering from that side of the building. Or leaving, which was the biggest safety hazard he had ever encountered in possibly his entire life.

That wasn’t to say nobody tried to move it; they did, it just didn’t fucking budge. He had tried, and Sollux had tried, and he’s fairly certain someone from the college’s congress had tried, but nobody could move it. Or maybe they were just lame and weak, which was also very true, but still, it didn’t move until Nepeta had come along and somehow, using some intense power from the depths of her core, pushed it just enough so someone could climb through and end up in the hall.

Karkat hadn’t actually thanked her for that, he remembered as he climbed through. He should. That’d be kind of nice, seeing as how he had to walk up the other side of the building for the past six weeks. He pushed the thought into a corner of his head so he wouldn’t forget about it.

Karkat climbed through the door and onto the table, hearing the door close behind him with a snap before he slid off the heavy, wooden frame. His feet hit the floor with a soft _thonk_ , and he made his way down back towards his room.

Actually, nevermind, he stopped halfway there because someone came around that corner, not the one down towards his dorm, but the opposite way. The way that lead to _Sollux’s_ dorm.

That person was Dave, who Karkat supposed had just come out of Sollux’s room, and it was also in Sollux’s room that he supposed he could hear the song _Careless Whisper_ playing. That was just a theory, though, but who the fuck else would be playing it?

Dave was pulling his shirt from last night on over his head as he turned the corner, but once his head was all the way through, his sunglasses had become crooked and he fixed them, getting a look at Karkat coming his way, staring at him, because this was a very weird thing that was going on right now.

“Hey . . . _Kat_ ,” He said, smirking and pointing double finger guns his way as he continued walking, “See what I did there? I took your name and shortened it, to something cool, like --”

“I got it, Dave,” Karkat told him. “The moment you said it.”

“ _Alright_ ,” Dave said with a smooth, almost lethargic energy, as he passed by Karkat and towards the stairwell, “Nice to know you’re a _cool cat_ , Kar- _kat_. Seeya around.”

Karkat turned and watched Dave struggle to climb up on the table, wondering if he had just about as much upper body strength as everyone else on this floor had. Apparently he did, because it took him a hot minute to actually get himself up on top of the table, and once he was there, he sat there for a second, out of breath.

“Why the _fuck_ is there a table here, anyway?” Dave yelled from down the hall, looking back at Karkat, who was still staring at him.

“Somebody put it there,” Karkat told him.

“ _Why_?”

“I don’t fucking _know_.”

Dave nodded his head a little, apparently happy with that answer, and proceeded to shimmy through the door to get out of there. Karkat watched him leave, considering for a moment that they all looked equally as dumb as Dave did when they climbed through there. But he shook the thought out of his head, and went to go find where that music was coming from.

And of course it was coming from Sollux’s room.

“What . . . the fuck?” He said, once he saw Sollux’s room. Karkat had seen it many times before; it was painted red by the guy who was here last, and the college administration chose not to care about it. Sollux had plastered posters of soccer players all over the walls, even though Karkat was fairly certain he didn’t actually watch soccer. Fake beehives were nailed to the wall, and he kept thin, red curtains covering his windows. Everything about his room was terrible, though, it was covered in so much gross stuff that he couldn’t tell where the floor ended and the grime began.

Sollux, though, ever vigilant, turned on his heel from the mess of clothes on the floor and smirked something awful in Karkat’s direction, adjusting the 3D glasses on his face.

“Why, _hello_ , Karkat --” He said, shirtless, and leaned on his unused dresser, “--What _ever_ could have brought you _here_?”

“I hate this,” Karkat said, “I hate this so much.”

“Oh, well I can turn down the music,” Sollux offered, pointing at his laptop, which had ‘ _30 Hours of Careless Whisper on Repeat_ ’ open in a tab. Karkat stared at him.

“Don’t ever talk to me again,” Karkat said.

“You’re the one who came to my room, _amigo_ ,” Sollux chippered, bouncing back onto his heels and grabbing a shirt off the floor, pulling it over his head, “So you tell me, was it the music that sent you over or --”

“You let your boyfriend spend the night,” Karkat started slowly, stepping into the hell room, “In _here_ , in _this_ room, the room which we both realize is covered in _disgusting_ , month-old -- what the fuck even _is that_?”

“Oh, _shit_!” Sollux shouted and snatched _it_ from the floor, not unlike a trash monster, or a weird monkey, “My _fruit loops_! Oh, _shit_ , I put those down like two months --”

“Is that _spoiled milk_ , Sollux --”

“-- I don’t tell you how to live your life, _buck-o_ ,” Sollux snapped, putting the bowl on the table beside his bed; Karkat still refused to so much as _touch_ his bed, “ _Besides_ , you’re one to _talk_ , you didn’t come back to your dorm last night, so it’s not like you’re ragging on me because I’m the only one who got laid --”

“-- Nope, no, not doing this!” Karkat shouted, suddenly embarrassed to know -- who was he kidding, he had always been embarrassed to know Sollux, “That’s not what we’re talking about!”

“Oh, so you can rag on me about my living space but I can’t point out your lack of sexual experience? Y’know, that’s real _conservative_ of you --”

“Do you -- Do you know how to shut up?” Karkat asked, “Is that a word, in your immense vocabulary for assholes, is that just --”

“ _Actually_ , was _not_ the bottom this time, so --”

“Oh my god! _Did I ask!_ ”

“What the _fuck_ else am I supposed to talk about, Karkat, I’m gay, like -- like that’s the _main_ personality point of me right now, kinda hyped up on frog water, you knew this when you decided to friend me on facebook,” Sollux told him, reclining now on the bed, “You signed up for this.”

“Granted,” Karkat said, but in a begrudging tone, to make sure he knew that he wasn’t happy, “But can we not talk about this shit right now, I don’t even --”

“ _Dude_ ,” Sollux said and tipped his 3D glasses down on his nose to stare at Karkat in a maliciously surreptitious way, “Do not come into _this_ , the room of the _holy spirit,_ and try to get out of admitting that _you_ , known bisexual _drama queen_ , got laid by the girl whose hips moved both mountains and tables, in the well-known soundproof walls of the holy Plathe building.”

“I hope you know that I’m going to kill you, Sollux,” Karkat said.

“I hope you know that I wish you’d try,” Sollux responded.

A moment passed in silence. Until it was shattered.

“ _No_!” Karkat shouted, “No, we did not -- do _that_ , okay! That wasn’t a _thing_ that --”

“Oh my god you’re such a baby,” Sollux smirked, “You can’t even say _sex_ \--”

“Stop talking, immediately,” Karkat told him, seething a little, “I hate you, and we didn’t have -- _sex_!” Sollux laughed when he said it. “ _Because_ her mom was there!”

Sollux stopped laughing immediately, his face caught in a wide smile.

“ . . . Her _mom_ was there?” He barely continued the joy in his voice. “Like, like _seriously_ \--”

“So was my dad --”

“-- _So was your dad_ \--” And then whatever words came out of his mouth next, Karkat didn’t bother trying to decipher, as a caucus of laughter erupted from his mouth and he fell over himself in a tither. Karkat pulled out his phone and turned on his timer, just for good measure.

“ _Holy shit_!” Sollux howled, about to cry, “Her _mom_ fucking --! _Ah shit_ that’s so --”

“It took you thirty seconds to get back to modern day english, Captor,” Karkat told him, pausing the timer, and Sollux wiped tears from his eyes.

“ _Dude_ that must fucking _suck_ \--”

“We weren’t going to have -- _sex_ , anyway.” Karkat still had trouble saying the word, out loud, though he’d never admit that to Sollux, who probably wasn’t even really registering him. “I just spent the night because, like I was _saying_ , before you so stupidly interrupted me, her mom was there, and they had a fight.”

“Oh, shit,” Sollux said, dropping his tone, “Get _out_ of there, dude, girls with mommy issues are _never_ worth it.”

“That’s great to know,” Karkat deadpanned with a glare, “But you know what, I’m not as shallow as you are, so go fuck yourself, first off, and second, my dad actually knew Nepeta, he was her therapist for a while.”

“Oh, _dude_ ,” Sollux sighed, looking at him and pausing for dramatic effect, “That’s _just_ like one of your dumb _fucking_ movies.”

“Okay, great this is going nowhere,” Karkat told him as soon as his mouth closed and moved back towards the open doorway, “Don’t even know why I bother including you, you’re the least helpful person I --”

“ _Dude_!” Sollux almost shouted, a little offended, “You never said you needed _help_.”

Karkat looked a little odd at that, and turned back to the other, and Sollux was staring at him a little more seriously now, as if suddenly he had said something that had changed the vibe. The vibe -- those don’t, those don’t _exist_ , he was -- he was spending too much time in Nepeta’s room. Jesus christ, but he looked back at Sollux with a similarly strange look on his face.

“What?” He said, as if it was a question, which it really wasn’t.

“Karkat, if you’ve got like, a fucking _problem_ ,” Sollux started, sounding as if this was the most obvious thing in the world, which it really wasn’t, “Like, tell me beforehand so I don’t make an ass out of myself, like, fuck. You just let me roast you for two minutes. We could have avoided that.”

There was a pause.

“I _really_ , honestly doubt that, Sollux.” Karkat squinted at him, and he shrugged.

“Yeah, knowing me, I’m probably lying on that last part,” He said, “Still, though, if there’s like, something you need to talk about --”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll just go get Gamzee, he’s probably still up,” Karkat noted and saw Sollux’s face fall just an inch, but he’d never admit to that. He added, “You . . . I _appreciate_ it, right, but . . . I don’t want to exist in your room for longer than ten minutes, gonna be super honest, Sollux.”

“You know what? Yeah,” Sollux said, toeing an old, hopefully empty cup of ramen noodles, “I should clean up before the semester ends, I don’t wanna spend all summer in a fucking -- in _this_.”

“You do that, and I promise I’ll vent about the first three years of my life while sitting on your floor.”

Sollux’s eyes resembled saucers. “You’d _sit_ on my _floor_? Holy _shit_ , well, now I _have_ to clean.”

Sollux smirked at him, and Karkat didn’t mind returning it, exhaling just enough to show some odd sense of bemusement. “I’ll see you _later_ , Sollux.”

“Hey!” Sollux stopped him suddenly, pointing at him from his bed. Karkat stopped where he was. “Don’t let me get in your way here, but uh -- word of advice.”

He coughed a little, sitting up as if he was about to hone in to Kankri’s spirit and give him a long-winded lecture about abstinence, or catholicism, or -- some other topic he didn't care about. Karkat didn’t tell him that, though, and just stood, waiting.

“I -- I mean, I dunno Nepeta that well -- _literally_ met her last night, but --” Sollux tugged at his collar. “ -- Just, y’know, don’t be _stupid_ , right? She’s your soulmate, or whatever, but, like -- that doesn’t mean you two are _perfect_ together. Just --”

“Is this going somewhere, Sollux?” Karkat’s eyes narrowed and Sollux’s rolled.

“--I’m trying to be a good friend and tell you as gently as possible that I got some _weird_ feelings from Nepeta last night --” He was suddenly blunt. “--And that you should be careful. You’re a relationship _newborn_ \--”

“Okay, I’m leaving now!” Karkat called out, heading back out the door as soon as he was insulted, “Thanks for the advice!”

“--Keep it in _mind_ , you’ve never had sex or ever been in a romantic relationship and I think you, _Karkat Vantas_ , should --”

Karkat slammed the door shut behind him, muffling the sound of his unfortunately annoying friend, and pretended he could no longer hear him. He groaned -- Karkat knew the last part was just him trying to pick a fight and announce to the whole dorm that he was a baby in terms of romance, but -- still. It kinda hurt. Just a little. But he’d never tell anybody that, though.

And whatever weird feeling Sollux got from Nepeta, Karkat thought, they had probably already covered it. Her family life was as unstable as his was, and she had once stabbed a kid, and Sollux could have been picked up on the residual emotions of either of those facts. And why did it even matter if he did? Nepeta didn’t really try to hide it, so it was all out in the open. It wasn’t like she was keeping it from him.

He was thinking too hard on this. Sollux was just being a dick, like usual, and even if he wasn’t, no cause for concern. Karkat liked to think he could roll with the punches, even though he knew if anyone ever tried to punch him, he’d probably explode on impact.

All of these thoughts passed through his head rather quickly in the walk back to his dorm; Unbeknownst to Sollux, he did want to shower and get into a different set of casual clothing before consulting a possibly stoned Gamzee on what the fuck was going on with his life at any given moment. Make no mistake, he wasn’t concerned about any of it, he just wanted to make sure somebody reacted the same way he did when being given the same information. Gamzee was always good at reacting the way he did, _especially_ when he was stoned. Though, high or not, Gamzee had been his pen pal since fourth grade, he was pretty sure they were on the same wavelength despite any outside influence.

But when he reached the door to his room, he completely forgot about Gamzee and quickly recognized several things.

One, his door was open.

Two, it was open just a crack.

Three, the doorknob was gone.

Four, _where the fuck had the doorknob gone?_

If it had been broken, or on the floor, maybe this wouldn’t have weirded him out as much, but it was just _gone_. Nothing else about the door was odd, except that it was open, but there were no marks or anything that suggested a forced entry, other than the doorknob having disappeared. The way it looked, the other side of the doorknob was still there, too.

So, Karkat was perplexed. _Vexed_ , even, as he stood there, absolutely dumbfounded by the missing doorknob. Even as the thought came around that perhaps his dorm room had been broken into, really, who stole a fucking _doorknob_? Karkat couldn't help but stand there, thinking about it.

Well, that is, until the door opened itself.

And, by opened itself, he meant it was opened by someone inside the room.

That person was someone he had never seen before, didn’t know, was vaguely sure was an ex-criminal of some sort based on the simple fact that they were so fucking _large_ , and was absolutely, a hundred percent, _going_ to kill him.

Karkat always thought he was tall enough; Shorter than Gamzee, but Gamzee slouched, so he believed himself tall enough to reap the rewards his height granted him. But every last one of those rewards got kicked out the tallest window of the north tower, because whoever this guy was, Karkat’s head lined up with the bottom of his chin, and Karkat stared into his neck.

It was awkward, because Karkat continued to stare into his neck, despite five seconds having passed, and silence having crossed over them. The silence was broken by the muffled noises of a suddenly resumed _Careless Whisper_ from down the hall, which caused Karkat to realize this was truly the spot he was going to die, and to the tune of that fucking awful song. He cursed Sollux out for the next two seconds and only stopped when he heard a noise coming out of the guy in front of him, one he didn’t register.

Karkat stammed for a second, managing to get out a barely legible, “ _What_?” before looking up, slowly, at the man in front of him.

“I _said_ \--” The man stared down through broken sunglasses. “--Are you in possession of a dual _sun_ and _moon_ soulmark?”

Karkat stared at the bags underneath the sunglasses instead of his eyes.

“No,” Was his clever response.

Fuck if this guy had heard any of his and Sollux’s previous conversation in between the thin walls of the decrepit, dilapidated, cursed, _hellbent-on-killing-him_ Porter building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as if this chapter is a little bit shorter than normal, but thats okay, bc i am a Tired Person and writing is hard but im blaming this one on me being concerned with other projects so /shrug emoji
> 
> also i love karkats dad i imagine hes just so good hes just Fun


End file.
